Tatsumi and the Thousand Teigu
by The Ruff Pusher
Summary: AU. Though he doesn't know it at first, Tatsumi is a descendant of the First Emperor. In a world much different from the original, how will he navigate the intrigues and intricacies of ruling the Empire as a young and impressionable youth, while dodging assassination attempts and young ladies at every corner? mature/will contain smut in future/will have elements of Diablo series
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** _"1000 years ago, the Emperor struck a deal with Ancient Evils, turning forty-eight into a thousand, leading to centuries of prosperity. Now, the Emperor's last descendant must return to the Throne, lest darkness fall."_

* * *

The boy's carcass was still steaming and sizzling, like a hot skillet meal, when they took it away.

"Fucking brat. Useless to the end." Honest bit into the end of a pork roast, his teeth crunching on the fat bitterly.

"What should we do, sir?" said one of his advisors. "Without the Emperor, the Judgments will fail in a matter of days! The Empire will-"

"I know better than you, moron. Stop telling me things I already know," Honest snapped, tearing off another chunk with no small ferocity. Without an Emperor, no one would sit on the Throne. Without the Throne, there was no Empire, and the vultures would take it apart, piece by piece.

He looked back at the Throne, so humble and quaint in design. Some had even said it looked far too simple and ordinary to be a powerful thing: silver and white and bronze clashing together in tacky form. But looks, in this case, were very deceiving. The Throne was not merely a symbol. It was the ironclad center of the whole Empire, and was the heart of its prosperity as a nation. Whoever sat on that Throne quite literally controlled the Empire.

It was far from an ordinary chair. The thing had a mind of its own, like the many Imperial Arms bestowed upon the Emperor. It would reject anyone who dared sit on it who did not bear the First Emperor's blood, turned them to ash upon contact, burning through armor and clothes.

Though even the descendants were not spared-those the Throne deemed "unworthy" were fried after a short while, cooked to a crisp like that poor unfortunate child they just carried off. There was no criteria for its killing of Emperors-bastards became Emperors over their more legitimate kin in that way.

At this point, Honest wouldn't have cared less for the Throne now that the kid was dead. The Empire could rot in pieces with his _blessing_ -there were many contingencies for his taking positions in various states that would arise from its corpse, though of course his title would be smaller than "Chancellor of the Empire".

Still, not all was as hopeless as it appeared. There was at least one more trump card he could still play, one he'd held in reserve for many years. Though he had slaughtered many who bore the Emperor's blood, he spared this one thing, for an unlikely day such as this.

"Prepare the fastest airship you can find," he ordered. This would have to be handled with care and with utmost speed. News would have already spread of the young Emperor's unfortunate death, and with no apparent relations left the Empire's teetering position was made even more precarious. An Emperor must be anointed, even if it was possibly for the last time.

Now, who would he assign the work? They needed to be quite discreet, would be strong enough to take on whatever challenge with just a small token of men, and would be "trusted" to not betray Honest at the last second, for they would need to be entrusted with the truth of the person they would be escorting back to the Throne.

After a few second's thought, the Chancellor only saw one face appear in his mind's eye.

()()()()()

Airships were an unusual sight, even in the thousand years since the First Emperor's blessed reign. It was even more unusual in the farflung areas of the Empire, where traditional horse-drawn carriages and the occasional lumbering steam-powered trains were more common to see. Out here, on a remote snowbound village, such sights were was equivalent to fireside fairytales for each villager, who could only count on the word of the few merchants who deigned to pass by their humble hoves. And they may have just been hallucinating from the deep cold.

Seeing an airship appear was then just as amazing as seeing a dragon fly past. The thing's appearance even lent to the imagination: sleek in body, like a bird's, expelling fire and smoke from its nethers, with jagged, bat-like wings that never moved.

Even more surprising were the soldiers emerging from the thing's "mouth". The village's strongest defenders lined up to bar the sudden visitors, wary of an attack. The soldiers paused, also taking up formation all around the village, blocking the way in and out.

What was even more surprising for the villagers was the appearance of a strange apparition-a tall, statuesque woman who would not have looked out of place in this snowy environment. Her long, blue hair waved like snow reeds in the biting wind, and she stalked over the snow with a confidence known only to those who'd lived in this element for a long time.

"Greetings, I am an envoy from the capital," the woman said, caressing the villagers with her piercing gaze. Even the hardiest of their hunters froze at the sheer presence that exuded from her eyes-it was like staring right into the eyes of a danger beast. As a result, all of them held their tongue, as if their lips had been sealed shut by some frigid wind.

"I am here for a boy. A child, said to have lived here." She reached into the front pocket of her uniform, withdrawing a small sketch given to her by the Chancellor, which also had a hastily written description in the back. "Said to have the 'blood of the savage east', and... what the hell is this chicken script-bah." She threw the sketch towards the villagers, who watched it drift in the wind. "Basically, give me the kid who looks like that."

The village elder stooped to pick up the sketch. It was of a child, drawn by an unknown artist. "We do not have babies at the moment, honored one. But-" the elder turned to the other side, and scrunched up his eyes to read what was on there. "Hmmm...! Born to a woman who drifted here from outside. From the east...! Why, it can only be one of two people. Sayo's mother we took in when we found her at the hunting grounds, so it can only be either Ieyasu, or T-"

"Please, spare me your rambling, old man," said the woman. "If you know who and where he is, then do not tarry in producing him. My patience is as thin as the spring ice."

"Why yes, we do know him well. But it's..." the elder gestured, his eyes turning to the forest at the outskirts of the village. "He's... out."

()()())()()()()()()(

Down the boy ran, skidding through the snow as the beast lumbered through the forest, flattening trees with its massive paws. The frenzied bear had only eyes for its quarry, the being who had disturbed its slumber. Its mouth slavered at the thought of tearing the offending creature limb from limb.

"Hey, give me a break!" Tatsumi shouted, whipping over a branch mere seconds before the bear turned the whole tree to splintered bark. "It was just an accident you stupid thing!"

The rampaging bear did not hear, nor did it stop. The route Tatsumi had taken through the stonebark trees did not seem to faze the creature, whose tough hide withstood the sharpened splinters-each one sharp enough to pierce a man's chest.

"As expected of a beast, you're just a big pain aren't you?" He frowned. He couldn't lead it back to the village-too many people would get hurt, even if he knew himself and all the hunters there could combine to take it down. He relished the day when he could personally fight a danger beast to a standstill, even kill it, but his skills were still too raw and lacking. That was why he'd even gone out of the village even with a blizzard on the way.

The chance thought came to him that he might just die today. Wouldn't that be a hilarious way to die, just a bloody smear on some random bear's paws. "Fuck you!" he shouted. "I ain't gonna go down that easily, you f- oh crap!"

He'd made a mistake: jumping on a branch that was too brittle. His feet broke it, and he fell to the snow, his momentum lost, the beast coming ever closer.

Out came his dagger, held firmly in tense fingers. "I can do this," he thought to himself, watching two tons of killing muscle charge ever closer. Nothing in this world was invincible, and he would find this thing's weakness. Even if it killed him.

Laughing at the insanity of his actions, he dashed forward, straight into the jaws of death. But a moment later, the bear's side exploded, and a second later it was knocked to the side, as if a massive rock had barreled into it. He stared after the thing as it rolled far away, its blood trailing it through entire meters of snow. His head creaked back to the source and saw an unusual sight.

It was a beautiful woman, staring coldly at him, her arms crossed in front of her breasts.

"So you're him? Well come on then, 'Emperor'. You've got a job to do."

())))()()()()()(

The villagers watched Tatsumi being dragged away by the woman back to the airship. They could not even say their goodbyes, nor even protest at the unsightly treatment of one of their own: the woman had told them that her soldiers would remain here for the time being, until they would be recalled. Should anyone try anything stupid, the whole village would be torched until nothing remained, not even a memory.

"And mark this," the woman had said, before departing, "Each of these are veterans of a hundred battles. Challenge them if you please, though please give them the courtesy of a good fight." Such threats uttered behind a mask of pure sincerity, so they had no choice but wring their empty hands.

Still, it rankled, seeing the woman just manhandle a protesting Tatsumi, his clothes still dripping with bear blood and offal, into the strange flying contraption. Though an orphan, he was one of them. A moment later, the thing rose in the air, and turned before screeching away on the bitter wind.

"Who the hell are you?" Tatsumi repeated. He looked around him. The inside of the "airship" was a cramp mess, the short height and width of everything needing him to curl up into a ball just to sit. "And what the hell do you mean, 'emperor'? What's that gotta do with me?" The woman rolled her eyes, and looked away pointedly from him. He slammed his hand on the floor. "Hey! Answer me! You can't treat me like this!"

"Who is this innocent babe who pretends to be a man?" the woman said. She glared at him coldly, though there was a smile on her face. Her eyes flashed, and Tatsumi felt his throat lock up, as if he were choking. "Do not test me. This ride is discomforting enough; bark at me any more than necessary and I will freeze all the blood in you."

"Kkh!" Tatsumi squinted, struggling against the sudden paralysis gripping his body. Hell, it was like staring into the bear all over again. At the thought of his near death experience, Tatsumi sighed and relented. "I'm... I'm sorry. I'm just not used to being dragged around like this. And, I mean... you did kill that bear for me. So I'm grateful for that."

The woman waved dismissively. "That thing was not even worth my time."

"You're pretty strong, then."

"I always am," she said with a small grin, raising her hand and clenching it tight. "And you will need more than that to survive the capital. You shall not have someone like me to get rid of bears."

"The capital?" Tatsumi gaped. "Y-you're taking me there?"

"You're not the sharpest sword in the forge, are you kid?" She gestured. "The Chancellor has-"

"Tatsumi!" he shouted suddenly. The woman froze, as if she'd turned into a statue. "Tat-su-mi. That's my name. I'm not 'kid'."

For a moment he thought she would turn her glare to him once more, as she stared at him with her displeased eyes. Then, the moment passed, and she laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"An amusing child. You stare death in the face and dare to laugh. Hahaha! I'll remember you wherever your path leads, 'Tatsumi'."

"What's that supposed to mean, lady?"

"It's Esdeth," she said in turn. "You may call me Esdeth. I am no puffed up court 'lady'. I am a General of the Empire. I do not generally escort people like this."

"Oh. Huh. Well, you're escorting me? To the Emperor?"

"No," Esdeth said. "I do not like to repeat myself, so listen well. You _are_ the Emperor."

()()()()(()(()(())((

"Ah, welcome, welcome!" Honest's jovial greetings nearly bowled over the smaller Tatsumi as he took his hands in his and shook it up and down, like he were violently swinging a sword. "It is good to see you... 'my lord'. Ohohoho, you have done a good job. A very good job, Esdeth."

She inclined her head. "I always do."

"Indeed, indeed. Now, we shall need you and your Beasts on hand at the capital for now. Expect my word should anything happen." Unspoken was the agreed-upon stipulation, a backup in case _this_ backup failed. The Imperial Capital without the Emperor was just a city, however splendid, but it would be better to hold it more than any other territory in case the worst happened.

"I don't understand... um, sir. What am I doing here? And why's Esdeth been calling me emperor?" asked a guileless Tatsumi.

"All in good time," said Honest, leading the young man away. He shot one last look down the steps at Esdeth, before he plastered his face with sycophantic expressions. "You see Tatsumi, you are a special child, didn't you know that? In your blood runs the last traces of the First Emperor's own. Though you were born out of wedlock, and are, _harrumph_ , forgive me for saying, a 'bastard'... it makes it no less a fact that you carry the Imperial blood. And that is more important than whoever gave birth to you, at least with regards to the Throne."

It was quite unfortunate that the Throne knew of the truly illegitimate, whom previous men of ambition had tried to install on it, only for them to be incinerated for their trouble. Since then, people like Honest learned to be more precise with the intrigues circling around the Imperial seat. Honest had done his homework, tracking down all of the rapacious Emperor Zuum II's "conquests" and making sure he knew every single one. Tatsumi's mother was herself a daughter of a scullery maid whom the Emperor had impregnated, the man allured by her foreign green eyes.

"Whoa..." Tatsumi breathed. "You mean I'm some sort of long-lost prince?"

Honest could almost chuckle at the wonder that stole over the boy's face. At a glance, he could already see the boy's measure. Simplistic and naive, though with a hidden edge that he should try to temper. The very fact that this country hick had endured an airship ride with Esdeth without a scratch already spoke volumes. The General was not known to suffer fools.

"Not just a prince, now. You must know that your relative, the previous Emperor, has died."

"Oh." A troubled expression came over Tatsumi's face.

Honest nodded, mirroring the sad sentiment. "Yes. A sad affair. One we have not yet announced, until we'd found a suitable successor. He was yet a child, you know. Cute and precocious... as young as he was, he could not yet father children, to continue the line. Do you know about that, m'boy? Sex?"

Tatsumi blushed. "Of course. I-"

"Then that is good! You're much older than he was, so _you_ can manage it. Though we're getting ahead of ourselves, so don't go thinking of the harem you want to build just yet!" Honest chortled, making the boy flush even further.

He took the young man to the throne room. No sense in delaying even an hour in testing Tatsumi. The latter stared with awe at the seat of power, so intimidating even in its small and humble state. "Do you know of the legend of the Empire's founding, my lad?"

"Only bits and pieces," said Tatsumi, waving vaguely, his gaze still mesmerized by the Throne. He recited the tale, passed down for a millennium, a story widespread among the people of the Empire. "Someone came to the Emperor, once all the fighting was gone. He was gifted a thousand wondrous objects, which would later be called the 'Imperial Arms'."

"Ah, yes. A little condensed, but it is all true." Honest did not feel the need to mention the Wanderer's Bargain: the price for gifting the Emperor these things, nor of the hidden cost of each Arms-the Demon's Due. "Through these objects the Emperor had been able to uplift the Empire to a golden age, of sorts. Airships, railroads, and magical carriages of steam and steel. But what most of them doesn't know, is that all of it flows from this sole object. The throne. It is magical in itself. Through it one literally governs the entire area of the Empire. It is a secret known only to the Emperors, and their closest servants. I myself was taught this by our late Emperor's father-bless his soul."

"So what does it all mean?"

Honest pointed to the throne. "If you are truly the Emperor, then the throne will accept you. From then on you shall be crowned the next Emperor... Emperor Tatsumi, or whatever name you choose." Tatsumi gulped, another blush forming at the thought. "However, the throne will also reject whoever is not worthy. Bad things can happen." Tatsumi paled. "It has happened," Honest repeated, with a grim look on his pudgy features. Then he grinned, and clapped Tatsumi on the shoulder. "This is your chance. You can refuse, if you want. After all, not everyone wants to rule. It's tedious, no? But if you also wish to be Emperor, then you've a right to know the risks. Not every _man_ can be Emperor, after all."

Tatsumi swallowed, and once more turned his gaze to the featureless throne. It looked so small and simple that he could not imagine it rising up to destroy him. He looked from it, to Honest, who merely glanced back at him with curiosity. A lifetime seemed to stretch from one moment to the next as Tatsumi contemplated his choice. On one hand, he had no idea how to rule: he was a simple guy from a faraway village, who'd learned to hunt and survive in the harsh wastes. He balked at the thought of shouldering the weight of an entire Empire on his shoulders. On the other hand, he had always dreamed of doing right by the people who'd raised him from birth. He and his friends had even spoken of a near future when they would gather their strengths and find work at the Capital from where they could earn and send money to their village. But with him as Emperor...

A fresh, giddy warmth stole through him, even as his grin widened. _Yeah, why shouldn't I be Emperor?_ Tatsumi thought. It honestly sounded like a cool idea! He took a step forward, and nodded to Honest. The man bowed.

"If it is by your will... my lord." Honest did not bother trying to hide his wide smile as his gaze followed Tatsumi's ascent up the royal stairs to the throne at the top. Still, he subconsciously crossed his fingers behind his back, aware that the thing might just cock things up at the last minute.

 _I hope you're not a failure, child,_ thought the Chancellor. He braced, like he were trying to endure a sudden squall, as Tatsumi paused at the top, turned around, then sat down on the Imperial Seat.

()()()()()(()()(())(

There was more than token apprehension in him. After all, he had not been given enough time to think about it. He was acting more on impulse now, his heart beating hard and loud in his chest, as if he were still being chased by that monstrous bear. Thus, his entire body trembled as his buttocks settled against the throne. He closed his eyes, as if he were expecting an invisible blade to fall upon his head. Fear gripped his body, as cold and relentless as the blizzards of his home.

"Huh."

Moments had passed in silence. Tatsumi looked around, expecting but not seeing the danger of which Honest had warned. His hands gripped the armrests, and he shifted nervously in his seat. He glanced at Honest, who was staring intently at him.

"...Nothing's happening, wha-oh craaaa-"

Pain, like a thousand tiny sharp needles, lanced into his body. He jerked up from the chair, his back arching and his muscles convulsing. He screamed; his consciousness engulfed in white-

 **Contribution analyzed,** said a booming voice in his head **. Soul binding process initiated.**

"Who is that?" Tatsumi shouted, speaking without a voice.

 **Initial scan of contribution complete. N-Nephalem match ratio is-is-is-is ninety-one percent. Proceeding activ-activ-activ-activation of pr-activation of protocols-cols-cols-protocols.**

"I don't understand!" Tatsumi said. He paused. "Are you the thr-gaaah!"

There was little way to describe the insurmountable pain that shot through his whole spine, like tiny daggers running up and down the center of his back. The back of his head hurt from how he'd bashed it against the throne's back.

"Sir!" Tatsumi yelled into the limitless whiteness in front of him, calling for the Chancellor. "Sir Honest! Help!"

And just as he was about to throw up from the pain, the voice returned and said, **Sync... kssht... process at fif-fifty persssssenttt... INITIATE USER DISPLAY.**

()()()()()()()()()()()()

The child _wasn't_ burning; that was a good sign. In fact, he recalled the last Emperor, who'd also thrashed within the binds of the Throne when he'd first sat on it. So Honest stood back and watched the process-at this stage he was gratified that the boy truly had the last bit of the First Emperor's blood in him, and that was a good start.

He blinked, and stared intently at the boy's body when it sagged, lifeless, against the throne. He peered for signs of smoke or fire.

"Sir Honest?" asked the boy this time, stirring from rest. He looked around; his eyes were shining! Well, that was another barricade scaled. The old Emperor had displayed those glowing eyeballs too when he'd sat on the Throne; that meant the Throne had accepted the boy-for now.

"I'm seeing a heck of a lot of things... Whoaaa... I think these're... numbers? I can't be sure. And there're letters here too. I can barely read... Yep, there's a whole bunch of numbers and letters here. Sir, are you there?"

"Your loyal servant is ever vigilant, my lord," Honest said with quavering voice. "How is your condition?"

"It hurt. Real bad," said Tatsumi. "And there were these strange voices at the start. Anyway, I'm looking at something really strange. What the heck is all this? Do you know about it?"

Honest hesitated, and then said, "Why, that is the magic of the Throne, my lord. I have not seen it myself, but my previous masters had said that those strange images are exactly what they saw." He sighed."From the Throne, the Emperor sees all that is within the Empire's domain. Those 'numbers' mean certain things: conditions all around our glorious Empire. You see a map there, right?"

"...Yeah. It's right below me. Holy crap! It's like I'm flying!"

"Yes, yes, that is how it is done. Look below you, do you see the capital?"

"Yes."

"Are there numbers, words on it?"

"Ummm..." The boy bowed his head, his glowing eyes squinting. "Yeah... I think. There's something called... prosperity? Yeah. Prosperity's at two thousand."

"Hah! That is at least two greater than the previous Emperor, my lord."

"Really? But what does it mean-"

"How about the others?"

"Umm... Well there's population: something about a million. And, er... Teigu count. Forty-six. What's that mean?"

"It means there are forty-six Imperial Arms within the capital's walls, my lord. It may sound difficult to believe, but the Throne is aware of, and lets the Emperor alone see, the numbers that are important to ruling."

"Whoa!" Tatsumi looked up, straight at the ceiling. "Then that means, the Empire's really poor? We've only got two hundred gold in the treasury?"

Honest grimaced, as if he had been personally attacked. _Such a keen child..._ "It saddens me to admit it, but it is the reality of the current Empire, my lord. Constant rebellions from misguided fools have killed our people, disrupted our trade, and reduced our subject's morale to a pittance. A sad epitaph for the Empire the First built."

"Wait, 'Rebellions'. Holy...yikes. That's a whole bunch of them, in red over there." Tatsumi pointed and gestured with his hands, as if he were grasping at something only he could see.

"It is impressive how you've managed to master the Throne's abilities, my lord. As I'd said, the Throne is the lynchpin upon which the Empire relies. As Emperor, you will be given many such information from the Throne. Now, my lord, would you care to stand up from the Throne for now?"

"Huh? Sure, but why?" Tatsumi stood, and immediately, the glow that spewed from his eyes disappeared. He blinked, staring around the royal chambers like a blind man whose eyesight had been returned. Before his eyes, the maps that had been there, along with all the shapes and words and numbers had disappeared, like he'd been merely daydreaming.

"I... wow." He looked down and did a double take.

A whole bunch of people were now there below along the foot of the stairs, with Honest at their head. They were all prostrating on the ground before him, their foreheads practically touching the floor.

"My lord, congratulations. The Throne has meted its judgment. You are the rightful heir-last of the First Emperor's blood. May you guide us all to victory and peace... Emperor Tatsumi!"

"Hail, Emperor Tatsumi!" the others cheered.

Tatsumi scratched his cheek. "Ahh... that sounds kinda lame. Just call me Emperor for now, please. I gotta figure out a cooler one..."

"Very well then. As my lord wills," Honest said, hiding his sneer. "Hail our new and glorious Emperor!"

"Hail!"

()())()()()())()()()()()

The news came; though by then they had already long known.

"Is that right, ma'am?" asked the woman, with long, black hair. She stared sullenly up at the gold carving of the eye, which had until now been closed. Now, not long after news had arrived of the Emperor's death, the sigil of the Watcher had suddenly glowed above the chambers of their current hideout. "I thought he had died?"

"What does it all mean?" they asked among themselves, and their leader.

Najenda, who had seen it before, said, "It means that there is now a new Emperor," she said grimly. "And one who can control the Teigu, unlike that child. We've got no choice but to relocate. He can see us now."

"Understood!" they all said, then went along to their duties.

The scarred veteran looked back up to the eye. Would that they could blind it permanently, so that the people might live. The news of the child Emperor's death had filled them with hope: now, with the Eye's awakening, they knew it would be a long and bloody trail towards the new Emperor's neck.

"But do not fear, 'my lord," Najenda muttered, imagining a cringing, weak man behind the form of the evil, corpulent Honest, "Night Reid will give you peace, soon enough." One way or another, the Empire must fall, to break the Wanderer's Bargain once and for all.

* * *

 **Hi there! So my previous High School DxD story wasn't really working, and I had trouble trying to expand it. I'll come back to it another time, but in the meantime, I wrote this. It's my first, technically second, non-smut work (though there are plans for such content here in the future), which I plan to do in-between commissions.**

 **As always, if you want a story commissioned, just shoot me a message here, or on my tumblr "theruffpusherdottumblrdotcom".**


	2. Chapter 2

The coronation ceremonies were loud and grand. A great motorcade moved proudly through the streets of the capital city, thronged all round by his many future subjects. Aerial ironclads, like floating fortresses, blessed the celebrations with their ominous shadows, while smaller, speedier airships made dazzling formations and flying tricks alongside. Several divisions of the Imperial Army showed off the impressive arsenal of war-machines, while lines upon lines of smartly dressed soldiers marched in unison to the beats of the drums and the roar of the crowd.

Of course, he wasn't there to witness it all. Tatsumi was still inside the palace, protected by all sorts of defense countermeasures and contingencies. In the meantime his body double was the one out there waving his hand from the back of a motorcar and showering in the adulation of the crowd, and then later attend the many tedious ceremonies that were to come.

Chancellor Honest had made it clear that the minute he'd accepted the Throne he would have to meet personally with various nobles and other elites in the Empire. It was a show of solidarity, as well as confirming for these esteemed personages that the Emperor was truly alive and healthy. So while his body double engaged the minor nobility and middle-named merchants at the various celebration parties, Tatsumi met with the more powerful names in the Empire, who each held significant chunks of important assets, like farmland or industry, or held top positions among the Imperial ministries.

The Chancellor did a good job guiding him through the various introductions. He definitely felt uncomfortable meeting with these people, like he was just an imposter wearing a skin that was unfit for him. Still, he did his best, and it helped that they were all deferential to him. What didn't help was that all the names and titles eventually became a blur of ink to him; many times he had to ask the Chancellor who so-and-so was, or what the Minister of Logistics' name had been. He was honestly grateful to Honest for putting up with a country bumpkin like him. Were it not for the Throne, Tatsumi definitely wouldn't have felt royal at all.

Three days passed in this manner. The education was brutal, but Tatsumi was convinced that this was but the small step on becoming the most awesome ruler he could become.

On that day, his body double was assassinated. He had been on another motorcade, as usual, a much less bombastic ceremony towards Imperial Army Headquarters, where he would have publicly addressed the generals and troops assembled. En route, his car had blown up, taking out a hundred people and annihilating a whole city block with him.

It was the first time Tatsumi was upset; after all, the man had died because he had been doing his job. The city was put on lockdown as the assembled Generals personally used their skills to track down the perpetrators. Tatsumi was needed to appear in public himself to dispel the news of his death, and assure the people that he was still alive and well by demonstrating his use of the Throne.

Honest took him aside, away from the hubbub and ruckus, and said, "Before you do that, now is the perfect time to look inwards, my lord. That one was a lucky strike, and though we shall have a dozen other body doubles still, we must always be vigilant. It was my mistake to not equip you first. Do you recall that forty-six Teigu were said to be within the capital? Good, good. Twenty of those are kept within a secure vault at all times. We call it the Vault of the Emperors. It is there that you shall choose what kind of Imperial Arm you want to wear."

Honest took him to the deepest parts of the palace, far deeper than the various secret passages and boltholes (which he'd memorized on day one). Then they came to a large door, with the same color scheme as the Throne above, with various designs etched on its surface. Honest pointed to a vestibule on the door's right side. "There is where a mysterious mechanism, similar to the Throne above, will recognize your right as Emperor. It is also where the Teigu have to be placed upon the Emperor's death. Touch your hand over there, and wait."

Placing his palm inside the opening, he felt a pinprick sensation on his palm, after which a booming voice resounded throughout the antechamber. He and Honest looked up as the voice said, **N-Nepha-bzzt-Emperor lifesign re-recognized... We-Welcome to the Vault of the W-Wan-Wanderer, Nep-Nepha-Nephal-bzzt-Emperor.**

The doors opened with a rumbling like deep thunder. Light seemed to shine from within, nearly blinding Tatsumi. He beheld a shining room within, filled with all sorts of pedestals. Symbols shone on the wall, bright gold in color, while a grand yellow orb illuminated it all from the ceiling above. Tatsumi took a step forward, then two, then looked behind him to see that the Chancellor had not followed him in.

"The Vault only recognizes one of the Blood," Honest explained. "I can no more enter here and take from the Vault than I can sit on the Throne. You must be the one to go in and choose, your Highness. I shall wait here."

"Which one do I pick?" Tatsumi said.

"Whichever one my lord desires," said Honest.

Tatsumi frowned. "How will I know which is best? A human can only ever use one Teigu right?"

Honest nodded. "It is up to you, my lord." He made a show of hesitation. "But... well, I can tell you that for the last four generations, including your predecessor, the Emperors had chosen the **[White Soulstone** **],** a ring that granted them mysterious powers."

"The **[White Soulstone]** , huh? I'll think about it."

"And then there is..."

"Hm?" Tatsumi tilted his head, seeing Honest had a difficult look on his face. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," Honest said, shaking his jowled head. "Carry on, my lord."

"No really. Please tell me, Chancellor sir. I'm deeply indebted to you; if it is in my power..."

"Well, I have always wanted a Teigu of my own," said Honest, launching into a speech long rehearsed. "But near all of them involve combat in some manner, which is impossible for a man of my stature," he joked, gesturing to his rotundity. Tatsumi grinned. "My whole life has been devoted to statecraft and service that I had no time to train myself in the martial arts. But I have heard that there is at least one of them inside: just a mere trinket, one which the Emperors have hidden here for a long time without use. It is called the **[** **Flavor of Time].** I just wondered... well, if it could be possible, unless you chose that thing yourself..."

"Got it," said Tatsumi, already heading further inside.

"My lord?"

"I'll bring that for you. **[** **Flavor of Time]** , right? I'll give it to you."

"B-but Master," Honest spluttered. "It's... it's..."

"It's fine, you don't have to be shy, Chancellor," Tatsumi said with a carefree wave. "I'm deeply grateful to you, and I'll see to it you're protected as well. I wouldn't know what to do, or who to trust, if somebody ended up assassinating you."

"I-I-I have no words, my lord," said Honest, sounding like he was all choked up.

"Just continue to help me from now on," said Tatsumi, as the door to the Vault closed once more.

()()()()()()()()()(

Behind the closed doors, Honest allowed himself to grin. Oh, what a wonderful way to culminate long years of tireless work! It had been impossible with the brat's father, who held the so-called Imperial Duties to high regard. And of course, his son had to get himself killed by the Throne, before he could wheedle the Teigu from the Vault.

But this new Emperor was finally able and fully willing to give him what he deserved. He had pored through the late Emperor's scrolls, deciphering the information of the Twenty Teigu that had been hidden away within this Vault, forbidden from every being used unless by one of the blood. Few even knew of the Vault's existence, its treasury merely part of the many mysterious Teigu that were never named or identified through the centuries.

Of all the treasures in that vault, the **[Flavor of Time: Ourobouros],** was the one he'd sought for so long. It was a pendant said to have the utterly delicious effect of granting a form of invulnerability, through what means he didn't know. But such a thing was perfect for an important man such as himself. No longer would he have to fear the assassin's blade, or at least that was the expectation.

Honest forced his giddy self to calm down and sober up. The thing might just have a weakness, or it would be an insignificant artifact, or it wouldn't even be inside. After all, there should be a reason why no Emperor since the First had ever used the pendant in the long history of the Empire. He was never one to fantasize on the what-might-bes.

()()()()))()()()()()(

The inside of the chambers was slightly cool, like his village on a sunny day. He looked around at the pedestals, scanning the different objects floating on top of them.

He approached the nearest one, which displayed an object looking like some sort of large war mace, and examined the inscription on the pedestal. He squinted: it wasn't in a language he understood. He held out his fingers to brush over the carvings, and immediately jumped back with a surprised bleat when the voice returned.

" **Life-form pattern recognized. Greetings, nephalem. This one will aid you with the contents of this Vault.** "

"Nephalem? Who's that?" Tatsumi said, repeating the word that the mysterious loud voice had kept repeating since he'd sat on the throne. The voice did not answer his question, so he shrugged and looked back at the thing. "What's this then..."

He jumped when the voice returned, and spoke as if it were answering his question. " **That is the [Warmace of Kahn]. Wielding it grants the user unparalleled strength, as well as a grasp on 'Sorcery'. It was wielded by an emperor from another world. It has sunk in the blood of many Fatalities, including his own."  
**

"Sounds cool," Tatsumi remarked, though he was sure he wouldn't pick it up. He wasn't really a mace kind of guy. "Are there any sword-like Teigu in here?"

 **"Negative. The only other weapons are a bow and arrow, a spear, a flail, and a large shield."**

"That sucks," Tatsumi said, frowning. He'd have liked it if there had been a katana-style Teigu inside. He turned away from the **[Warmace of Kahn]** and walked through the room, his eyes traveling over the other exhibits. He spotted a small ring, which he approached.

 **"The [Bl-krsht!-The [White Soulstone]. It protects the wearer from all abilities that affect the mind. Said to be filled with the radiance of angels, the ring grants the user endless Sanctuary."**

"Yikes. It doesn't feel that useful. And the other emperors chose this?" Tatsumi was beginning to think this Vault wouldn't have anything to offer him. He looked at the small fragment that rested on top of the ring. "Hey, the stone's not even white!" It was black, with angry red lines running through it. "I wonder if this was the Wanderer's idea of a joke or something.

"Hey, weird voice guy. Can you point me to the Flavor or whatever?" Immediately, a different, auburn light illuminated a pedestal some distance away. It was a pendant, exactly as the Chancellor had said, with the carving of a snake eating its own tail.

 **"The [Flavor of Time]. It will work to prevent the fatal blow. Those who Brave life must also learn to not Fault death."**

"I'll take it, if you please," said Tatsumi, snatching the pendant from the pedestal. He looked around, wondering if something would happen, but nothing did. He smiled, and pocketed the pendant. "Now as for my own Teigu... Jeez, I have to look through everything in here?"

 **"The [God Hands]. Allows the user to destroy anything with one punch. Its full potential may only be unlocked by a strict Herculean training regimen lost to the annals of time."**

"But what if the enemy can see my punches coming? I'll pass."

 **"The [Emblem of Fire]. Allows the user to destroy enemies beyond the capabilities of ordinary mortals. It was said to be forged by draconic gods from other realms to defeat their adversaries."**

"That sounds vague as heck. But I'll take a raincheck." If he ever found something like that bear again, anyway.

 **"The [Breath of Heaven]. Gives life, even from the brink of death, but never to the user. Love is never an act for the self, but the selfish feeling of selflessly giving of oneself to another."**

Tatsumi looked at the mask-shaped object thoughtfully for a long time before shaking his head and moving on. It was useful, but it didn't sound like it would protect _him,_ and that was the point the Chancellor even brought him here. He went through the whole room, examining all nineteen of the Teigu in there, and found nothing which resonated with him.

Still, it wouldn't do to leave empty handed. He went back and chose to take the one Teigu that would protect him from surprise attacks. He'd just leave the rest of the fight to his own abilities, which he'd promised himself to train vigorously from then on.

" **The [Cloak of the Almighty]. Wreathes the user in protective shadows, which will bring him to safety when needed. It was worn by the victor of the Thousand-Year Blood War, who was said to have won through his legendary powers of prophecy."**

Tatsumi threw on the black, nearly transparent cloak, which blended in with the rich-looking royal regalia he was forced to wear in public. He waited for signs of the Teigu reacting, and was pleased that nothing seemed to come. He then went to leave the Vault, like a customer satisfied with his purchase.

"You... you have it?" Tears came to Honest's eyes when Tatsumi presented him with the amulet. The portly man practically prostrated himself at Tatsumi's feet, even going so far as attempt to kiss his robes. "Oh, my lord! My just and wonderful lord! I shall follow you to the end of my days! I gladly receive your gift!"

"Uh... yeah. I'm glad you like it, Chancellor. As I said, I'm really grateful to you. I hope you continue to take care of me in the future."

Shaking his head in amusement, Tatsumi lead the way back up to the surface. He therefore missed the genuine grin of accomplishment on Honest's face as he stared at the intertwined serpents, even going so far as to nibble on the pendant, as if to confirm its reality.

"Mmmm... Flavor..."

()()()()()()()()(()()()

It turned out that the perpetrators had been some minor terrorist group, who had used their connections to a brigade in one of the divisions to procure some high-grade explosives. They all, even the division whom the guilty belonged to, were rounded up and sent to the Imperial Dungeons for sentencing.

"They are to be hanged?" Tatsumi asked incredulously, staring at Honest like he'd grown a second head.

"Of course, my lord," the man replied, as if it were a matter of course. "That has been Imperial law since the time of the First. Traitors and murderers are to be executed in such a way, unless, of course the ruling Emperor has some other means in mind?"

"No, but I thought..." Tatsumi whirled, looking out the window down at the city sprawled out below. "I thought they'd spend time in prison, or something."

Honest made one of his long-suffering sighs. "My lord, while the sentiment is... praiseworthy, and heartwarming, there is no way out of Imperial justice, unless you pardon them outright. And if you do, then most of the people would be angry at you, for many of their kind had been murdered by this rebel scum, and seeing you pardon them would send the wrong message, that their Emperor is too soft, and lenient."

Tatsumi frowned. "I'm not."

"Then there's no problem," Honest said, spreading his arms wide. "If you wish, you could rescind the bylaw that also demands the death of whoever was involved with the murders. There may be traitors there too, but perhaps there are innocent ones as well."

"They're going to be killed, too?" Tatsumi cried. "Yes! Yes, rescind it. Don't kill them. Send them to prison, or exile, or something!"

"As you wish," said Honest, finding the boy's innocence refreshing and cute. For now, he was in a honeymoon phase of acceding to the boy's every whim, particularly after gifting him the Teigu so freely. But later on, he would have to show a firm hand, and demonstrate to the boy the realities of ruling the whole Empire.

Though Honest wondered why the boy thought prison was better than death. There were far more horrible things to contemplate in there that would make the average person wish for death.

()()()()()()(((

Within a complex of caves far away from the eyes of the Emperor, a small group had just finished installing the final touches to their newest hideout. Several figures carted in a small, golden box fastened to a pedestal.

"Gaah!" said one man, who collapsed to the ground after the pedestal had been placed. "Remind me never to pull off Cube-carrying duty, Bulat."

"Come on, it's not that bad, Lubbock. Just needs a little work from the gut." said the other man, who was currently clad in some strange armor.

"That's because you're using the Teigu!" Lubbock cried. "And with the Cube out of commission, I can't use it with you. Gosh I can't believe I miss Incursio."

"Yeah, 'cause we all know the armor and strength was the coolest bit," said a girl sarcastically, who arrived next to them and dropped her bundle on the ground. She wore twin-tails, and stuck her tongue out at Lubbock. "And not the invisible part, where one can 'theoretically' sneak into the women's side of a public bath unnoticed."

"Use it, don't abuse it," succinctly said a glasses-wearing woman behind her, also dragging some objects with her by the rope.

"You know she's just gonna lop off your balls if you try it again, Lubbock," said the first girl.

"Come one, Mine, Sheele, I apologized already! And besides, it ain't like I'm abusing it to gain advantage. I just wanted... a peek."

"Try again. Kill," said a cold voice from behind. They turned to look at the slender, black-haired girl, who was sitting on the ground. She glared daggers at Lubbock, who swallowed at the threat of certain murder present in her crimson pupils.

"I-I-I promise..."

"By the way, Akame, why ain'tcha helping out?" asked the one named Mine.

"Help is done," said the girl. She pointed downward, to the mat laid out on the floor.

"There's still a bunch of other stuff to carry in," Lubbock said, exasperated.

"Never mind that, it's just more opportunities for me to show my stripes!" said Bulat, who marched back towards the cave entrance.

Lubbock looked around, debating on whether to give in to his tiredness and rest like Akame, or gain "man points" with all the ladies present by showing up Bulat, perhaps by carrying more things than him.

Unfortunately, such thoughts were interrupted by an insistent sounding beep coming from one of the objects that Sheele had carted in. Lubbock, who was closest, went to pick it up. Activating the small device made a sound like static come from within.

It was a communication device, one-half of the last pair they'd stolen from the Empire. Such things were guarded jealously by the Imperial armies, who used the object to communicate over vast expanses of territory. Speaking into one paired to another would transmit one's voice to the other device, and vice versa.

"Copy! Copy! Is this you guys?" came a garbled sound from the other end.

"Yes! Copy! Copy! It's us, ma'am!" Lubbock replied enthusiastically, shouting right into the device.

"Stop shouting into the thing!" came the reply, delivered with equally loud pitch that made Lubbock reel back, his ears ringing. Akame snatched the phone, then brought it to the others who'd made an informal circle while Lubbock rolled on the ground clutching his head.

"So you've managed to transport the Cube safely?" asked Najenda, their leader who was on the other side of the communications device.

"Everything's fine. We're ready to re-install Incursio again."

"Ahh, belay that. Things are moving up that we won't need to Cube Incursio. I'm having one of the Away team transferred over to you; she'll be there in a couple of days. Her Teigu's going to be the one more useful for our next assignment."

"I thought Incursio would be good to improve our fighting capability," said Sheele.

"That's true, but this next mission will require just a bit more finesse. The Revolutionary Army's managed to find itself a useful 'in', and I've gained permission to use our new position to our advantage. Thus, it would be better for us to share that other Teigu instead of Incursio."

Kanai's Cube was one of the most famous and most powerful Imperial Arm to have ever existed. Though having no powers of its own, it instead allowed one Teigu user to "bind" their Teigu within the Cube, who would then in turn be "tapped" by other Teigu users to use the bound Teigu's abilities as if it were their own, without penalty.

Bulat's Incursio, for example, had been used so far by all the members of Night Raid: so in addition to their own Teigu, they acquired the abilities of Incursio-without the physical manifestation of armor. It was therefore a little weaker for those who weren't the original wielder, as they would not gain the protection of armor. For Teigu like Pumpkin, the inherited ability would only be the increased combat power during dangerous situation-the intangible effects, and not the physical Teigu itself. Akame's Murasame became a feared tool when Cubed: _any_ strike from a bladed weapon from the other members would invoke the sure-death ability of the dreaded blade.

The Cube had been used in much the same way by the First Emperor's elite group of soldiers, who were tasked to remain in the shadows to help stabilize the realm. Since then, the Cube had been under the purview of the Empire's assassination arms, and had helped secure vital victories against overwhelming odds even through small numbers.

Though sounding quite miraculous, the Cube still demanded its own Due: using the Cube would bind the life of each Teigu user bound for that moment. Prolonged use would permanently bind their lives: the death of one would be the death of all. Night Raid overcame such grim fatalism by promising to never die in their missions.

Depending on whomever was asked, the Cube's theft was either the most brilliant maneuver, or the most embarrassing blunder ever in the sphere of intelligence and counter-intelligence. Its acquiring by the Revolutionary Army had involved many steps and many major players on both sides of the conflict, which ended in the deaths of many of its agents and sympathizers, though in the end they achieved the goal of obtaining the powerful Cube. It involved several scandals, the bankruptcy of the Imperial Bank, a mass slaughter of a traitorous Imperial garrison by the Ice Queen, the Chancellor tearing apart a whole roasted pig through sheer apoplectic strength, the loss of several thousand rebel troops, and also led to the recruitment of Akame into Night Raid.

Najenda then petitioned the Cube for herself, claiming that the artifact would find little use being an object of study and research rather than being practically applied in battle. The Cube was then in Night Raid's arsenal ever since.

Still, it made relocating bases that much of a hassle. The thing wasn't exactly light. Imperial agents were searching high and low for the stolen object even now, and carelessly revealing it at town, where people had memorized the image of the object plastered all over the wanted posters, would only summon them within five minutes.

"I shall inform you later about the specifics-holy shit!" The others looked among themselves, surprised by Najenda's sudden exclamation. Then they heard her cluck her tongue. "Damnit. It's already started."

"What is it, ma'am?"

"The 'good Emperor' has just laid down a Judgment. Fantastic."

"Oh no!" All of them paled. All of them knew of the capricious Judgments, massive, god-like spells that scoured the landscape of an entire region, the size of several-hundred acres. The Emperor could ravage the region with quakes, could call down blizzards in summer and sandstorms in winter; could even prevent non-Teigu users, the ordinary folk, from speaking at all. For the most part, Judgments had been used in the past to simply exterminate a rebellious region, wiping the offending peoples from the map like ants to be flicked aside.

Yet the Judgements could also enforce prosperity: granting rain to water the crops, mana to fall from the sky, sun to dry out the floods, and bounty to spring forth from the ground, ready to eat. All the gold could be turned to silver, and vice versa; all sickness purged and wounds healed.

The latter types of Judgments were what helped stabilize the Empire during the first few centuries. Eventually, successive Emperors grew more self-centered and wicked, only doling out Judgments to punish, and hoarding blessings selfishly for regions they favored.

"I got to-we got to get out of here," said Najenda. "I'll talk to you again guys, just stay low for now, I'll get word to you soon enough!"

"What's going on, ma'am?" Lubbock shouted, his voice weak and desperate.

"Don't shout! And it looks like the Emperor wants to drown this whole region under endless floods. You guys be ready, this sort of tyranny's exactly what we're fighting."

()()()()()()()()()()

It had happened like this:

Before the month was out, Tatsumi was expected to master the intricacies of operating the Throne. What had been thought to be a tense and long learning process with the child Emperor was expected to be made easier with the older Tatsumi, who had been able to grasp the basics of operating the strange "User Display" from the start.

Using the throne, he had a bird's eye view of the whole Empire, from border to border. It would even be more accurate to say that it was a "god's eye view", being that he was able to see everything happening all throughout the Empire as it was happening. It meant he was able to peep on the advancing entourage of villagers he'd invited to the capital. He laughed at Sayo and Ieyasu, who'd grown steadily more terrified of the strange machines and creatures they'd encountered along the road.

He could not hear them, though. That was perhaps too much powerful for the nigh omniscient Throne. The more useful features of the Throne were the bits of information it fed to him about certain places on the map. On the greater map, for example, he saw the places where the Revolutionary Army was camped, but although he was able to "zoom in" on those places, he could not see any sign of an army or a base. Honest had said that most rebellions had learned to operate underground, where the Throne could not see, and the Revolutionary Army had long evaded the Throne's eye through this technique. When he asked how the Throne even knew there were threats in the first place, Honest had shrewdly replied that the Throne might be tracking the Teigu that had fallen to hostile hands, and was able to categorize them as threats in that way.

Still, no matter how it happened, it helped that the Empire had a general view of where threats came from, even if Tatsumi could hardly act on it without first getting off the throne and informing the general closest to the action via the "comm-devices".

The magical display also showed him other things. In the capital, for example, he could count out the population numbers, along with how many males, or females, how old each were, what jobs they held, and how much they'd contributed to the imperial tithes. Again, people were able to evade the Throne's scrutiny by going literally underground, and there had been a thriving "basement city" for hundreds of years where the general ne'erdowells went to, freed from the Throne's roving eye.

Along with population was happiness, though Tatsumi didn't know how the Throne knew that. Then was the number and condition of the Teigu, the amount of gold in the treasury, the armies currently stationed in the capital along with their compositions to the last soldier, (all of it was above ground, for obvious reasons) the number and type of aerial ships, the production and flow of various trade goods like wheat and cattle and fruits, along with the number of factories currently operating within the walls. Above it all was a value he had yet to understand, which he ignored for later.

It was the same thing with the other smaller cities and townships surrounding the capital. But what he did find strange, in looking out over the many cities of the Empire, was that the number of prosperous cities and happy people rapidly decreased as one went farther and farther from the capital. Prosperity was practically negative in the rebellious regions, and the frontier towns were bereft of happiness, big fat zeroes that coincided with the scarce amount of population.

In examining the data, Tatsumi had a thought that perhaps Honest was right. Looking down from above, he was able to see that prosperity was practically nonexistent in places where the Revolutionary Army was camped. The people were fewer, and were very unhappy in those places where the Empire could not enter. Thinking on those bright red splotches staining the map made Tatsumi very angry, and he almost wanted to squash out the rebels with his own two fingers.

Alas, though he very much wanted to ride at the head of a vast army to deal judgment, he knew the sordid business of military leadership was better left to the generals. What he knew of fighting was of confronting weaker Danger Beasts, and not with ensuring the troops were supplied, or their morale. Perhaps he could join in on a meeting sometime, try to learn something...

"Available Judgments?" Tatsumi mouthed to himself, pulling that value close. He was surprised to see that it was exactly the unknown value he'd seen plastered all over the map. The regions closer to the capital, for example, were under something called the "Judgment of Plenty", whatever that meant. Though he was able to conclude that it was a good thing, judging by the immense happiness of the population within.

There were different types of Judgments outside the border of prosperity. These farther areas were afflicted by less positive sounding Judgments, like "Plague" or "Pestilence", that made him wonder what sort of Emperor would punish his own people like that? So thinking, he attempted to remove the Judgement of Plague on a certain region.

 **"Error,** " came the voice. " **Judgment slots are full. Please reassign Judgments to stabilize the flow of-the flow-of-to stab-the flow of energies."**

"Can you be any less, vague, mysterious voice?" Tatsumi asked. "Fine! How do I 'stabilize' it?"

" **Rem-retra-Removing the Judgment of Pestilence, without adding appropriate Judgments for balance will be deemed invalid, and ignored. Please think on it, Neph-nephalem."**

"So I just need to add another to remove one?" When the voice didn't return, he shrugged and looked again at the map. Well, that made things easy. He'd just remove add "Plenty" to all the other regions, then remove the Pestilence-

"Huh. That'll just make it so that region doesn't get any sort of benefits..." Tatsumi frowned, his brain trying to work through the problem. True, the bad Judgments would be removed, but he couldn't add "Plenty" there without removing some other Judgment. His eyes moved across the map, and found areas of "Plenty" that he was sure were under Revolutionary control. "Well, you don't need those." He began reshuffling the Judgments all around the map.

 **"Error. Require one punishment-type Judgment on a sector before execution.** "

"Whaat? What sort of Judgment is that?"

 **"Pestilence and Plague are examples of punishment-types. The Judgments have been color-coded for your convenience."**

"Whaaa... oh, that's better." He saw that the various Plagues and Pestilences he'd offloaded on the Revolutionary territories were shaded a darker red, while the ones with Plenty were shaded a pleasant green. "I'll need to add another one, huh..." He looked around, and spotted an enemy territory. "Now which one...?"

Plague and Pestilence were old hat by that point. He pored through a long, scroll-like list of names ( **"color-coded for your convenience"** ) of other Judgments. "Oh? Typhoon sounds nice. Yeahhh... Get a load of that, rebel scum." After confirming his choice, a small sound like a bell chime sounded in his ears.

 **"Confirmed. Initiating Judgment."**

He sure could feel the power thrumming through the Throne in that moment. No, it was more like-it was as if the very land itself was a living thing, and he had just ordered it to do something. He sat back on the throne, looking extremely pleased with himself.

())(()()(()()()()()()()()

"Chancellor, isn't that?"

The boar-head was dropped to the ground as Honest began sprinting back up to the palace. The unmistakable sounds of thunder and warfare echoing in the skies on a clear and peaceful day meant only that the Emperor had meted out his Judgments.

But it was too early for that! The boy was not supposed to act without his supervision!

"Stupid, stupid child!" Honest seethed. "You'll ruin everything!"

Throughout the city, people looked up to the sky, their everyday life suddenly darkened by the announcement of a shift in the Emperor's mood, as some unknown cities and towns out there were Judged. They were assured, at least, that attention would not go to this very city-at least, they hoped the new Emperor wasn't that capricious.

* * *

 **Whew! That'll probably be the last for a while. I've got some commissions on the pipeline, and until then my "free" stories will have to be last priority, if I have time to work on it. Hope you enjoyed and I'll see you next time!  
**

 **As always, if you want a story commissioned, just shoot me a message here, or on my tumblr "theruffpusherdottumblrdotcom".**


	3. Chapter 3

"So? Then what happened?"

Tatsumi shrugged. "Well, Prime Minister Honest came bowling up to the Throne Room, fast as he can, his face looking all red and steamy like a piece of fried pork. He gave me such an earful he kind of reminded me of the village elder. Remember that time when we snuck out to hunt those wolves?"

"I remember," Sayo said, putting her hand to her chin. "The elder just _exploded_."

Prime Minister Honest hadn't exploded, per se, but he had been pretty close. His red-lined face and his puffed-out cheeks would have been a good facsimile of a tomato; which, of course, Tatsumi didn't point out loud as the man ranted and raved before him in the Throne.

It turned out that while the Emperor had the ability and the wherewithal to choose where the Judgements went, he currently could not just send them where he pleased. For the past hundred years, tracing back to the great-grandfather he had never known, the issue of the Throne's Judgments required the approval of all the Empire's Ministries.

"There was a great Famine then," Honest said with an authoritative tone, "And it had been begun by Emperor Zenvun's careless placements of the Judgments. He had not the wit to learn the intricacies of where the territories needed to be blessed, all because his father had died young and therefore could not teach him. The famine caused rebellion, and about twenty years of conflict, during which he was assassinated, and his son, your great-grandfather, was forced to accept the new roles of the Imperial Ministries as his advisors."

It was not a hard and fast rule, of course, thanks to several facts. No court existed to punish the Emperor himself, unless he was assassinated. There was also the fact that rebellion was _already_ a fact, and thus discontent from the populace was already a fact of life. The fact that he'd placed the Judgement of Typhoon on an area littered with the Revolutionary Army, had mollified Honest somewhat. Still, next time he was to inform the ministry council if he ever wanted to cast another Judgment.

Tatsumi was able to understand it all, to an extent. When his village needed to be fed, not everyone was sent out to hunt. People hunted in groups, which alternated every few hours over the course of the day. It was a strictly enforced policy that got him whacked on the bum for either daring to go out when he wasn't supposed to, or when he was caught slacking off when he was.

"The Judgment of Iron causes our mines to swell with raw ore," Honest had lectured, "Which is forged into plows for the farmer, who is able to fatten his cow for the butcher's axe, who is able to feed the tanner curing leather, which provides much-needed boots for our soldiers, who are needed to guard our mines. Take away that Judgment carelessly, and order collapses, and that is the end to your pretty little Empire." The words were so dark and ominous, yet spoken in such a laid-back manner that even he had been taken aback. Still, he took that lesson to heart.

Tatsumi chuckled, brushing aside his remembrance of yesterday's events. "Yeah, that was basically what happened. He told me there were rules about how I could dispense judgments and such, and that I shouldn't be displaying my power so blatantly."

"It sounds really amazing, this judgment thing," Sayo said.

"Hey, forget that! What's more amazing is the fact that Tatsumi's a real freaking Emperor!" Ieyasu interjected. He flailed his arms. "Like seriously, I woke up one day to _that_? This is so freaking wild!"

Tatsumi couldn't help but smile goofily. Truth be told, in front of his two friends he felt more like a kid wearing a set of clothes too big for him, like a costume for a play. And any moment he expected the punch-line to come in, to take it all away, and to thank him for playing the part of the fool.

Then he blinked, and the thoughts had disappeared, leaving him with the solid weight of the Teigu on his shoulders. Though he was speaking to his friends, he felt as if they were speaking from behind a very thin and unnoticeable veil, through which their words seemed like they came from a different world entirely. In the span of several months, Tatsumi felt like he was standing on a house made of playing cards.

"Tatsumi? Oiii, you there?" Sayo was saying.

"…Yeah, I was just thinking," he said, while smiling in apology. "While also looking at that at the same time." He pointed up at the painting near them. The trio were currently in the hall of the Emperors, though the two didn't know it was called that. Portraits of every previous Emperor (except his immediate predecessor, who was only Emperor for less than a day) were lined up on the walls.

The painting he indicated showed a fierce-looking man wearing a great black over-cloak over his shoulders, as well as a familiar-looking ring with a black gem on his clenched fists. Behind him was the hint of the sun rising from behind a hill, as well as a castle perched at the top, blocking the sun's rays partially.

"Uhuh. That guy? You know, now that I think of it, he kind of looks like you, man." said Ieyasu.

"Nah."

"No, I'm serious. Swap that hair for yours, lose that awful frown, and hunch over his shoulders and he's basically you, Tatsumi."

"The resemblance _is_ uncanny," said Sayo, giggling.

"Come on, you too, Sayo?" Tatsumi whined.

"Who is he?" Ieyasu said.

"No one else than the founder of the Empire himself."

"The Big Guy himself, huh? Well, like Sayo said, this really shows you two are related," Ieyasu remarked. He grinned. "Imagine that: my friend the Emperor."

Tatsumi scratched his hair, while sharing his friend's infectious grins. Despite the many gloomy thoughts occupying the back of his mind, his spirits were nevertheless brightened by the appearance of his best friends. The trio had been closer than comrades since childhood, having hunted and trained together many times back at the home village. Their presences alone were a soothing balm that cheered his lonely heart, particularly here in the very heart of the vast Empire he was supposed to rule.

Actually, Tatsumi was already feeling a bit happier ever since the villagers he'd requested Honest to bring to the capital had arrived. They had gone through a long journey, having come by road instead of on one of the flying boats that had brought Tatsumi here. He _had_ sent one of the Imperial troopships—mid-sized, unarmed flying boats meant for ferrying a small cabal of troops across the lands—but he'd been told by his friends that the villagers had adamantly refused to ride on such a contraption, which explained why the troopship came back to the capital empty-handed.

Still, they had made it here, which was all that mattered. They had been received with all the pomp that personal guests of the Emperor were accorded. Prime Minister Honest had then given them an empty mansion where they all lived, pampered by maids and servants all day long.

"By the way, I do have something that I think you guys can help with," Tatsumi said. "They're wanting me to decide my regnal name: it's like the name I use other than Tatsumi when I call myself the Emperor."

"What's wrong with Emperor Tatsumi?" Sayo asked.

Tatsumi blushed. "I… dunno, doesn't that sound kind of weird?"

His two friends stared quizzically at him. "It's your name, man," Ieyasu said.

"But it's not cool!" Tatsumi exclaimed.

"But it is!" Sayo said with such feeling that Tatsumi couldn't help but look away from her. For some time now he'd been having some strange feelings whenever he thought about Sayo, which made it awkward whenever they spoke this close. Tatsumi shook his head to clear his mind of that, and instead pointed to one of the portraits.

"Like, take that guy. He's 'Emperor Blacksun'. Isn't that pretty cool? Oh, and there's 'Emperor Tempest', 'Emperor Farsight', and there's 'Emperor Ironbitter'. I don't know what an Ironbitter is, but it's got something metal in its name so it's pretty cool."

While Ieyasu looked contemplative, Sayo shrugged and shook her head. "And I think Tatsumi's as good a name as any."

Tatsumi coughed. "R-really?"

"No, no, no, wait a second, Sayo, Tatsumi's got a point," Ieyasu said. "We can't have history record our friend as 'Emperor Tatsumi' right next to 'Emperor Tempest'. Tatsumi, you've got to find yourself a niche, man. What about 'Hunter', because of your roots?"

Sayo rolled her eyes.

Afterwards, the trio left that hall with Tatsumi still not able to find a good name for himself. He led his friends over to the Imperial Great-Forge, which they travelled to through the use of Tatsumi's personal flying boat. It was small, and had a long lever to guide its directions, exactly as a rowboat should be, except that it floated through the air.

The Great-Forge was the name for the capital city's bustling industrial district, which created the many weapons and armaments demanded of the Imperial army. From its depths were born the Empire's many ironclad flying ships, its smaller escort boats and the various sleek speed-boats that made up the Imperial fleet. Hand weapons, armor pieces, cannon shot and powder, artillery parts and more were churned out daily in the hundreds, supporting the enormous war-machine.

The Forge itself was fed by underground veins that, thousands of years after its discovery, was still rich in the precious ore that fueled its many creations. Tatsumi knew that a Judgment cast on the Capital itself was the cause, which somehow magically replenished itself after a set amount of time. It was something that Tatsumi couldn't remove nor replicate, as it was established by the First Emperor himself. The many tunnels left over from previous excavations that were close to the surface had been repurposed into the grand underground area called the Undercity, which Tatsumi had previously discovered was hidden from the Throne's eyes.

He led his friends to one particular building in the Great-Forge—the home of Martin the Skeleton, Master Swordsmith.

"Why's he called the Skeleton?" Ieyasu asked. "Is he so thin or something?"

"You'll see," Tatsumi replied, with a smile, leading his friends right into the heart of the building. A blast of heat came and warmed them as they went further, signaling the active forge which was Martin's workplace. When they arrived, the man himself was nowhere to be seen. A great pool of molten steel lay at the center, fed continuously by a pipe that was connected to the great smelting foundries outside.

As his friends looked around in confusion, a shape emerged from the depths of the molten pool. His two friends started, then cried in surprise as the shape rose to reveal itself as a fiery skeleton, tall and frightening, its form dripping in hot, melted minerals.

Upon seeing the group, the skeleton waved a hand, and Tatsumi nodded in reply.

"Wh-what is that? That thing? That skeleton, it's walking!" Sayo said, trembling. Ieyasu was nodding along, also clearly unnerved.

"That," Tatsumi began smugly. "Is Martin. He's the 'Skeleton'. He's also the best darn smith in the world." It felt good surprising his friends, as he'd once been during his first meeting with Martin. He'd also been unnerved by the walking skeleton on his first time here.

Martin was said to be the oldest living human in the Empire, and perhaps the entire continent. He had been born during the Great Rebellion that preceded the Empire's founding, and had been apprenticed to the legendary blacksmith Griswold who had helped forge the Thousand Teigu. He had lived for so long because of the Teigu he had obtained, which granted him a form of immortality: any form of heat would no longer harm him, be it the inferno within the heart of the volcano or the flame of a candle. The downside, as of any Teigu, was that the immunity to heat was only conferred to his bones.

He'd heard it said that the Teigu was punishment by Griswold for some unforgiveable slight. Martin had been cast into Griswold's own forge, where his body melted and burned in agony until only his present form remained. Thereafter he would only be able to see and touch the world, the better to judge and create the perfect weapons. Whichever the case, Martin had remained in this place ever since, taking over the rank of Master Swordsmith from Griswold up to the present day.

Owing to the loss of virtually all flesh, the man communicated through writing or by miming with his great wrist-bones. As the only senses left to him were touch and sight, he could not even hear Tatsumi, and had to read what Tatsumi requested before he nodded in acquiescence. Martin pointed to a far door, through which Tatsumi and the others went into.

Inside was a large chamber composed of many shelves filled with weapons of all shapes and sizes. Everything in here had been made by the Swordsmith, and thus was his personal armory of sorts. Sayo and Ieyasu reacted in much the same way as he did when he'd first seen this room: in silent awe.

"Come on, let's get something for you."

"A what?" Ieyasu said.

"A weapon," Tatsumi said. "I got myself a sword from here." It was a strangely designed sword, said to have been modelled after the blades wielded by warriors from the mysterious Eastern nation—which was coincidentally the same place where his mother supposedly was from. He'd felt an odd kinship towards the blade, which had made him pick it in the end. "Since I technically 'own' all these, I'm free to give you some of the weapons on display here."

"What?" Sayo said, spluttering.

"Man, are you serious?" Ieyasu asked. "That's… that's kind of a big thing."

"Psh, don't get all meek and humble on my account," Tatsumi said. "Ieyasu, there's a whole bunch of axes over there. And Sayo, I'm sorry but apparently, we don't make bows or arrows in the capital, but I'll take you to the armory later on. Though you are free to take some of the daggers here."

Watching his friends gush over the weapons on display, aided silently by the looming black skeleton using a piece of paper to communicate, made Tatsumi smile. He caught himself looking far too much at Sayo, too, which honestly made him a bit apprehensive. _He couldn't possibly… towards Sayo… right?_

* * *

Buruskai had been an arid and harsh region in the Continent, home to four small towns which provided the Empire with a modest tribute of silver mined from their many hills. Seasonal rain or snow was almost nonexistent save for a freak incident here and there, which was usually caused by an errant Teigu user more than anything.

It was so remote and out of the way that the Revolutionary Army had chosen it as one of its main outposts, using the many abandoned mines that were honeycombed among the region's many hills.

In return for not making a fuss, the Army would take care of the banditry problem for the four main towns, as well as provide food whenever the caravans from the other regions ran late (which was usually most of the time nowadays).

And yet now Buruskai, which had never once experienced a drop of rain, now languished under a severe typhoon the likes of which even Najenda had never seen. Yet she knew it was a danger, as the strong winds battered the hills and the rain poured down in such great volumes that their underground bases had become flooded quickly. And it was all because of the whims of this new Emperor, goaded most likely by the insatiably corrupt Prime Minister.

Fortunately, Najenda and several of the Army's leaders had anticipated the incoming storm by a few minutes, as they had recognized the tell-tale sign of the Judgment coming. Najenda had experienced a Judgment once when she was a child, thus she recognized the terrifying booming sound coming from the horizon like a hundred giants tramping over the land. Then, the bleak, black thunderclouds had formed. By then the Army had mobilized, taking only what they could carry as the rain started forming great, flowing streams all along the foothills.

There then came the problem of their hosts, the people living in the four towns. It had already turned into a disaster of sorts, as they had no reasonable way to handle a sudden freak appearance of the heavy downpour of rain, which they had never once experienced in their lives. One town in particular had it worse, as unlike the other three that were situated on the hilltops, it had instead been founded in a valley surrounded by hills. All the water flooded the place within an hour, forcing a desperate displacement of literal crowds of people scrambling up the muddy hill-side.

The others did not fare that much better, after a while. Softened by the rain, entire sections of the hilltops collapsed in a great mudslide, taking many parts of the town (and its people) with it. The water was also steadily building up from the base of the hills. Buruskai's water system relied on a nearby river from which they drained enough to fulfill their needs. Now the river had swelled, causing a backflow, which also slowly built up the water in the hills. In a few hours, the whole place would be underwater.

The stupendous thing was the fact that the Judgment of Typhoon had only been cast on the region of Buruskai. Beyond its borders, any sort of water overflowing from it would mysteriously evaporate. The section of the river flowing immediately downstream and upstream from the Buruskai section would not immediately cause a flash flood that would certainly ruin the port town of Jashino at the river's mouth—no, the water would be inexplicably calm and level right outside the invisible barrier separating Buruskai from its immediate neighbor. Buruskai's Judgment was for Buruskai alone.

After the Army had managed to evacuate its personnel and equipment, a debate soon arose among its leaders about how to proceed. The Revolutionary Army was hardly a united front, with its members having vastly diverse origins and reasons for bringing down the Empire. The only thing they shared was the will to bring the Empire down—how it was achieved in a day to day basis was largely enforced by the commanders and leaders who were respected enough to be obeyed by the rest.

Nothing showed this disparate nature more than when the leaders disagreed with one another. For a time, they discussed their need to haul their battered army out of Buruskai and hopefully link up with another separate unit before the Empire came. Then Najenda proposed that they use their equipment to help the townspeople evacuate the sector.

"We cannot use our precious resources so negligently!" the other leaders protested. The argument developed over two sides, with Najenda leading the other block.

"How can we consider ourselves the Revolutionary Army when we do not even extend our concern to the common citizen?" she argued. "If we turn a blind eye to their plight, we are no better than Honest or his lackeys."

"But it shall become much more difficult for us to carry on this fight with the frivolous use of our resources," argued the other side. "You know it to be true." They had a point: it was difficult to admit, but Honest's network of spies dug deep into the Empire. Seeking aid from sympathetic people would inevitably lead to their executions or assassinations—whichever Honest's people preferred as way of punishment for aiding the Revolutionary Army. Any help they were able to wheedle without alerting Honest's network was a small victory in itself, be it a week's supply of food or flying boats surreptitiously nicked from a city's armory. Usually, these were simple cases of things falling unnoticed through the cracks in the Empire's bloated bureaucracy.

"Leave these people to their fates and we prove Honest's words true: that the Revolutionary Army is composed of nothing more than opportunists whose only desire is to topple his tyranny with their own. If you cannot show to these even the simplest compassion because it isn't 'practical', then it is as if you see everything through that greedy bastard's eyes—a great board-game, with pawns all around," Najenda shot back, slamming her prosthetic against a nearby stone.

Thus, after much grumbling, the way forward was made unanimous. No one wanted to be compared to that scum Honest. The citizens of Buruskai were to be saved.

The main components of their plan involved the usage of their primary modes of transportation: the twenty-odd scout boats which Night Raid had managed to capture a few months back from an Imperial convoy. They were smaller, sleeker versions of the standard Imperial flying boats, which were shaped like flying beans. The scout boats were intended as escorts for the larger ironsides, and were shaped like bats flying upside-down.

The boats flew all around, gathering the drenched, shivering townspeople from their hilltop refuge and taking them to the new camp just beyond the border, which yet featured the arid landscape they had all been used to. There, they were all directed to great bonfires which had been hastily erected, where they could be warmed up and their clothes dried. Many of these people grumbled just as much as those who had refused to help them out. It seemed that they had been adamant in bringing their belongings with them onto the scout boats. But the pilots had been given strict orders not to take on any more weight than was necessary, meaning entire scores of people were forced to leave their belongings behind.

Still, nearly every one of them were grateful for the rescue, as they had no way of knowing how the freakish situation would be resolved. When the last of the scout boats had returned, the hilltops had literally become small islands in a lake of rainwater. It was then doubtful whether _that_ would even persist.

After the people had been settled down, their rescuers nodded amongst themselves, having already agreed to this next act beforehand. At a signal, the more accomplished orators among them stepped up, gathering small crowds of survivors to themselves. They began to offer the usual spiel they used for people who had just been recently rescued from Imperial injustice. Blame was placed primarily on the guileless Emperor, who had sent that Judgment upon their heads, displacing many innocent people from their homes just from a mad whim. Then, the wiles of Prime Minister Honest were evoked, pointing to him as the lead instigator for much of the chaos currently gripping the Empire.

They would then introduce themselves properly as the Revolutionary Army. No, they had not engineered the rescue to reach this situation. No, they were not here to force anything on them. No, they were not here to "recruit". They were here to inspire, to show to the unsuspecting people that they had allies, friends they could count on, people who had been driven to the brink just like them. They were well-delivered tracts, given dozens of times before. The people were to be given a choice, and nothing else.

This was not to be coercion, they emphasized. The plan for now as for the Army to escort them to the nearest town, no matter how many, or even _if any_ , joined. They would not be punished if none of them wished to join.

(This was also being pragmatic. Leaving these people in the lurch, desperate for food and shelter, would only make bandits of their number. And there did not need to be any more, not with Great Bandit Honest at the Emperor's right hand.)

Predictably there was plenty of mumbling and whispering. Some even openly questioned their presence, as if they wanted to imply that they were the reason for the Judgment. Ultimately, only a few of their number stepped up to volunteer. As Najenda privately predicted, they were nearly all young men and women, people with little attachments to the town. Of course, there were some protests from parents or grandparents, but the volunteers were resolute. They either had ideals they wished to uphold so strongly, or wished to escape their former lives to become something else. Najenda had seen either case before, but she'd never really looked into how they fared after joining the Army. Would any of these number defect? Would they ultimately tire of being always on the run?

Najenda spared no more thoughts on the matter. The only thing she focused on more than ever was the sight of so many shivering people, ripped clean of their homes without mercy. And once more she resolved to continue the fight, no matter how bloody her hands would become in the end.

 _I have to get the team together soon,_ she thought grimly. _One way or another, this rotten regime_ ends.

* * *

Although he had been exhorted not to pull any more sudden Judgments out of the Throne, Tatsumi still found it his duty to spend his time studying its many mysterious functions. The Prime Minister and the various heads of Ministry had obliged him by taking up much of the matters of state for themselves, most of which had given him a headache in studying. Court was also not in session for the moment, which would have required him to sit through a hundred people introducing themselves and begging for some boon or favor that he needed to look up on a long sheaf of paper. He had again left Honest to preside over the whole mess of petitioners lining up before Tatsumi like he was a roast pig on display—at least until he got a better grasp of the whole "Courting" thing.

About the only other thing he practiced studiously was the way of the sword, which he was currently learning under a blade master from the army. He had to augment his Teigu's limited ability with his own skill with a blade, or otherwise he would feel like a very useless Emperor. He had just completed a sparring session himself, and had then promised to meet Ieyasu and Sayo again in the guest mansion after spending some time in the Throne.

One aspect, for instance, had him stumped for the longest time. It was the issue of the Empire's finances, and of the drastic lack thereof, that had him concerned.

He knew that the value of gold in the treasury meant the amount of bullion in the Imperial Treasury that was strictly to be used for the Empire. It was meant for the general upkeep of infrastructure and the many individual Ministries, for the creation and stability of the many branches of the State, and also to finance the war-machine that was to be necessary for the continued prosperity of the Realm. It did not count his own personal wealth, nor of the wealth of his many subordinates—which were technically all the men and women working in the armies, the navies, and the various Ministries.

Things shouldn't even be this dire. To start, the amount of money flowing in was a staggering amount. Each of the sectors of the Empire that had not been taken over by the damned rebels, or had fallen way low on the prosperity level, was giving a monthly tribute of upward of a hundred thousand Imperial gold each. Combined, that went up to a couple million gold per month. The tribute was in actual Imperial gold and not any other currency: this was the tax levied from each sector in exchange for the Emperor's continued protection and upkeep.

The many cities and towns provided other goods besides which would add more to the total tribute, like countless herds of livestock or freshly mined ore. But the Throne did not consider that "wealth" but simply "resources" to be used separately. The collective produce the farmers generated, the meat from livestock and hunting and fishing, among other sources of food were automatically distributed by systems he had yet to grasp throughout the Empire without need of his input. This went for other resources, like ore or manpower, too. And so far, they weren't in need for anything. Certainly, the problem areas remained a problem for still being out of their reach, but as for the territories still under their control, it was clear to Tatsumi that everything was going according to some invisible plan which he wasn't able to see.

So if the tribute was this high, and additionally no gold was needed to substitute for the needs of this or that sector, why was there still no net change in the bullion amount in the Treasury? Where did all that tribute go?

That was the question he posited to Prime Minister Honest a few hours later, as he barged into a meeting between himself and a few other Ministry heads. Strangely enough, there were women here as well, dressed far too scantily than he was used to. He coughed out an apology and closed the door, his cheeks burning.

Then Honest opened the door, revealing that the women had disappeared. The man looked inquisitively at Tatsumi. "Is there something you needed, your Imperial Majesty?"

"Oh, I'm sorry about that. Were you guys busy?"

The man shrugged. "… We _were_. But never mind that, my lord. I am at your disposal."

Tatsumi rubbed his chin, then shrugged. The appearance of the women was just another mystery for later. "I've a question I came up with while examining the Throne."

"You were using it?" Honest asked, exasperated.

"Yes. I need to learn everything about it."

The man sighed. "Very well. As long as you remember not to cast any unnecessary Judgments, as before. What is your question, my lord?"

And then he laid out his observation of the State's finances, along with the questions that had arisen from his personal investigation. "…In short, with all the tribute we're getting, why are we still in dire straits?"

Honest huffed. Then he gestured for Tatsumi to follow him over to a window. He pointed outside. "Do you see that?"

It was the great floating battle ship that always loomed above the Capital City. For however much his room in the Palace looked down on the rest of the city from a great height, the great ship dwarfed even that, looming farther up in the air with stately grace. It had honestly been the first awe-inspiring thing he had seen from inside Esdeth's ship as he was flown here. He'd marveled at how such a thing could fly—as it was equally the size of a mountain. It cast its formidable shadow over much of the Capital city on most times of the day, and at night it was like a mysterious sky-born creature which blotted out the myriad stars. It was shaped like a gigantic, upside-down bathtub—of the type he'd seen here in the Palace—and was a constant feature in the sky. Tatsumi had only ever seen it move once, and that had been during his coronation week, when the first of his body doubles had been killed. Flanked by smaller floating ships, the enormous vessel had performed a quick lap around the Capital before returning to its former post.

"The floating Castle, the mobile Citadel, the flying Dreadnought—our very own _Pandemonium-_ class flying ship, first and only of its class. Tell me, have you educated yourself as to its capabilities?"

"I—" he shook his head. "No, not really."

"Neither have I, in all honesty," said Honest, his moustache quivering in mirth. "But I only know of what General Budo boasts, whenever the issue of the ship's worth is raised during a gathering. That it could hold the entire Empire within it, and still fly. That it can snipe a Danger Beast with its mighty guns from hundreds of miles away. That if it were to point its bristling armament onto the Capital, it would only take a minute for everything to be turned to rubble. That it would require the ship's own guns to be pointed back at it to pierce its mighty iron bulk. Thus, on and on he goes with no end, but you get my point your Majesty. It is a formidable vessel, without equal, and for two hundred years since it was completed it has never yet faltered in its duty to protect the Capital."

"If it's so powerful, then how come it hasn't helped put down rebellions? The Revolutionary Army?"

"That certainly leads to the point I was going for, my lord. First, let me ask you, do you know how such flying ships are able to fly in the first place?" Yet again Tatsumi shook his head, to plead his ignorance. "Imperial ether. It is a substance that, when excited, can cause strange things to happen. The most pertinent effect, of course, is the ability to take a thing of that kind of size and weight—and lift it straight up into the air."

"Imperial ether?" Tatsumi repeated. "You mean the stuff they put inside _batteries_?" He knew that, even with his dubious background as a country bumpkin. His village was remote, but merchants did swing by from time to time, intrepid fellows who braved the Danger Beast-infested area surrounding Tatsumi's home in order to barter with the hunters who routinely slew such creatures for meat and hide. The batteries they sold were used to power beam-torches, the small apparati generally used as a cheaper alternative to burning wood for light. They were also used for children's toys.

"Indeed," Honest said. He waved to a servant, and ordered a cup of wine. "The ether is also used in our flying boats. Think, then, of the battery that would be needed to keep the _Pandemonium-_ class lifted high for long periods of time."

Tatsumi glanced at the thing. "…A lot."

"Quite a whole lot, as it turns out. Every day, the battle ship consumes enough ether to fill fifty thousand batteries."

Tatsumi reeled back in shock. "Fifty thousand… but that's—" He did a quick calculation in his mind. When the merchants had come to trade it had not been for Imperial gold, as the village had bare scraps to give. No, for a single battery they had to give five to ten hides of a normal animal, or a Danger Beast body part. They could get five batteries for the pelt of a Danger Beast. As he could not ascertain the proper gold value of any of those, he had no choice but to utter lamely, "That's a lot!"

Honest, who'd drunk of his wine while Tatsumi had been calculating, raised a finger silently in approval. He sighed and smacked his lips contentedly after putting the cup aside. "Not even a princely, or a kingly amount. It is not even an amount that an Emperor's wealth could give. It takes the whole Empire, Your Imperial Grace. Gold to process the rare mineral that creates ether into what it is needed to be, gold to fit it into the proper shells that can contain its power, and gold to ensure it does not simply explode when used. Gold, gold, gold."

He stood in silence, glancing up at the great floating ship while Honest polished off the rest of his wine. "And is that why we're not getting any of our tribute?" he asked.

Honest made a choking sound and coughed over his wine. "W-well, yes, that is the reason, my lord. That, and of course the rebellions. Many can no longer—or refuse to—give their assigned tribute to the Throne." He cleared his throat.

Tatsumi sighed. "Well, would it not be prudent to put that ship down? Make it land? Wouldn't it serve us better that way?"

The Prime Minister chuckled, as if he'd made a good jest. "Honestly, my lord you are not the first to ask that question. However, I do not doubt that you will be the first to be answered with deference."

Tatsumi cocked his head. "What do you mean?"

"That question has been raised time and again. For surely you must realize, my lord, that others have also questioned the value of the _Pandemonium_ -class ship just floating there and taking up space. And then, lo! General Budo, of the Imperial Guard, answers firmly: that for as long as rebels exist to threaten the Capital, there can be no rest to vigilance."

"General Budo said that?" Tatsumi said. His thoughts wandered to the image of the man the name evoked. It was a tall and imposing man, calm and stoic, whose scowling face and sheer presence was as of a statue made to frighten. He had only exchanged a few words with the man, chiefly concerning the day-to-day assignments of the Imperial Guard who were to protect Tatsumi day in and day out. "I see."

"Frankly I do not have a head for military matters," Honest continued, "So I cannot offer my opinions on the matter. But if one of the Empire's greatest generals, tasked by your father to be the Protector of the Imperial Blood, says that it must float, then it shall. Unless you convince him otherwise."

"Hrm."

"I sympathize greatly, my lord," Honest said, sighing. "For five years now—that is almost as long as I have served the Throne as Prime Minister—I have been thus unable to create great works to glorify the Empire. Oh the wonders we could have built: cities from dust, roads everywhere, a flying transportation system..! But alas, much of the Empire must be turned towards the war against our wayward subjects. _Your_ wayward subjects now that you are Emperor."

"It'll continue being there, until the rebels are gone." Tatsumi blinked and clapped his hands together. "Well, the answer seems rather obvious now. We should destroy the rebels once and for all."

Honest guffawed, but only for a few seconds. His laughter trailed off when he saw that Tatsumi looked quite serious. "Y-you are not jesting, my lord?" His expression smoothed over. "So you intend on taking the initiative? I… I don't know what to say, my lord."

He turned to regard Honest with a shrewd look. "Prime Minister, back in my village we always had a rule: that when a Danger Beast is on the loose so close to us, there can be no peace until all the able-bodied men and women of our village sally out and hunt the damned thing. We never delayed, we never bothered with anything less than the complete destruction of our enemy." Tatsumi smashed his clenched hands together.

He looked up at Honest, who was watching him carefully while stroking his bearded chin. His look was cunning, like the village elders whenever the merchants with the batteries came.

"… We have been at war for a long time now, that is a fact that no one can ignore. Your loyal generals have been at the forefront, fighting for exactly what you propose, my lord. May I ask, then, what exactly you mean?"

"A great assault, on every possible angle!" Tatsumi said excitedly. "We shall be a broom that sweeps throughout the land and cleanses the Empire of this wasteful taint. We shall isolate our enemies, then crush them piecemeal. And of course, I shall be there myself to lead an army personally!"

" _You,_ my lord?"

Tatsumi's puffed up chest deflated when he realized exactly what he'd said. Though Tatsumi could pride himself on being able to keep up in a fight, he was aware he wasn't the sort of person to lead a group of people, like in an army. It was the same situation as with the Danger Beast hunts in his village: though he'd been offered the position as hunt leader several times, he much preferred to attack head on while leaving the general strategy for others.

He shrugged sheepishly. "Well, I'll be there as… support! I'll leave the command to the general in charge, of course." His eyes glistened as a thought came to him. "And… maybe I can even fight."

"You are the Emperor, Your Will is law," Honest said with a bow. "But do forgive my presumption in saying, my lord, that perhaps it is best if you stay within the Capital, where it is safest." The man chortled. "But if you do insist on going, then who am I to stop you? We shall just be sure to have a great retinue to defend you."

"I wanna speak to the generals myself," Tatsumi said, the fire of enthusiasm reflected in his eyes. "Where might they be?"

"Most are in the Capital, pursuing their affairs. But they shall be summoned to a meeting, if it is Your Will."

"Nice! Let's do that."

* * *

"Leone. Oi, Leone. Wake up!"

"Mrm! Wha-?" The buxom woman yawned and raised her head from the counter. She stretched languidly and looked around as the sounds of the bar came back sharply into focus.

There was a great big brawl currently happening in the bar. Drunken bargoers, patrons and louts, most in varying states of undress, crashed into each other in a chaotic melee that sent bodies flying into the four corners.

Leone blinked groggily, before looking at the person who woke her. "Lubbock? Hey, what took ya so long? Were you the one who started this fight?"

"As if," the man replied, ducking his head a few inches to dodge a flying tankard. "But I was really kind of distracted by this hot chick near one of the clubhouses we passed. She was making bedroom eyes at me!"

"And you went to her instead of picking me up?"

The man placed his hands together in apology. "I'm really sorry! Let me make it up to you. How about a drink?"

Leone glanced over, and saw the bartender morosely staring out over the melee. "…Yeah, sure, I can go a couple more rounds."

Lubbock frowned. "…No, that was a joke. I was making a joke. See, I know what Najenda said. No more drinking once we've got a job." Leone made a clucking noise. "And don't 'tch' me. We both know it's true."

The normally playful look on Leone's face faded. "You've got a point." She yawned again. "Come on, let's ditch this joint. Iz a little too rowdy now." Together the two secret assassins navigated the slightly treacherous maze of struggling, bleeding bodies and the various missiles thrown through the air, until they reached the door. Then they both heard a dull thunk, which made them turn and look.

A bottle had struck the poor bartender, leaving him sprawled on the counter, insensate. A hush fell momentarily over the whole bar, before the room exploded with activity as each drunk now jostled to take advantage of the opportunity to grab a free drink from the barrels now that the bartender was out. Chuckling to herself, Leone opened the door and went out into the cold night.

Despite feeling that she'd been bowled over by a stampeding bull, Leone felt fresh and sharp, like a well-honed edge. Her good spirits had not necessarily come from the liquor—that is to say, her spirits were already high and so she decided to drink at a bar to celebrate.

For how could she not exult? The time to strike at the Emperor was near.

She was glad for it because it had technically been Night Raid's goal from the start: to help further the Revolutionary Army's goals by identifying and then assassinating key Imperial targets efficiently and with minimal collateral damage. Their ultimate goal, aside from making sure the Army would be able to win over the opposing army or defeat it entirely, was in assassinating the root of all evil: the Prime Minister Honest. He was the acknowledged source of all the Empire's current woes, as his dreaded network of minions and lackeys were scattered throughout the land, infesting the nation like rats that gnawed continuously at the people's spirit.

Assassinating him, nor less getting to him, was Night Raid's last challenge, and one they would not even contemplate yet. The Prime Minister was smart, and kept his comings and goings secret. He was accorded the same protective detail as the Emperor, which negated an all-out attack. And it was rumored he had a Teigu himself, one with abilities they didn't know, which meant another layer of mystery that they had to uncover before even attempting the kill.

However, assassinating the Emperor was the next best thing, really. With the current Emperor, it looked to be a more attractive prospect. As the Imperial heirs had been decimated during the last succession war, this was a ripe time to eliminate the last heir to the Throne before a new child could be born. This current Emperor's death guaranteed chaos to come, but it was something the Revolutionary Army could exploit in order to found a new nation, all while systematically destroying Honest's network of evil.

The only thing stopping them from actually planning for the assassination was the fact that this was _the_ Emperor, which meant the same, or maybe even better protections as the Prime Minister. The Imperial Guard, led by the indomitable General Budo, was a force not even Najenda would recommend in fighting even with their powers combined; and was guaranteed to always stick to the Emperor's side. And then there were potentially nasty traps Honest had devised around the unwitting Emperor as a precaution, just to make sure his insidious reign continued.

They had a ray of hope just a few months back, when rumors had come down the grapevine that the "last" Emperor, the child who would have been easily used as a puppet by Honest, had died in a freak accident. There was much celebration in the group, as this meant it was only a matter of time before Honest's machinations crashed down around him.

But then this new young Emperor had been introduced. And before any of them could cry foul and claim that Honest was now literally propping up a puppet, the Emperor had been demonstrated to have a grasp of the Throne, which meant he was genuine. That fitted him squarely into Night Raid's crosshairs. For there to be true reform and change he had to disappear, one way or another. And they were fully prepared to make that happen.

Still, the same difficulties remained as before. It was not like they would suddenly change their security arrangements for some unfathomable reason. It was clear for anyone to see from a thousand miles that the _Pandemonium_ -class remained docked above the Capital, meaning Budo was still firmly entrenched in there.

Of course, that was the reality until just over a day ago. Najenda, their leader, had contacted them again, and had delivered to them their next assignment: the Emperor's assassination.

As they all asked their leader for details in wonder, all Leone could think was a surge of thrill, like she were about to finally see prey helpless before her. Perhaps it was just the Teigu's strange magics working with her, but she didn't care.

"I shan't share the details yet," Najenda had said over the communication device, "But there will be one person from the other team who shall assist you in this endeavor. She shall meet you at Leverk."

Leverk was the current town they were in. Only Leone, Lubbock and Sheele had entered the town to meet with their contact. The others were left to guard the precious Kanai's Cube in their wagon outside of town, where they could make a quick getaway if needed.

"Ack, my whole body feels wretched!" Leone presently moaned as she stretched her arms up as high as she was able. "Think I might need to head down to the baths for some refreshment. Think I'll go ask Sheele to join me. How about you, Lubbock? Wanna come with?"

The man shook his head. "Nah, I'll pass. I think I found a nice source back there for some info. I'll check back with you in a bit."

"…Fine. Work is work."

"Indeed."

As they rounded the corner, Leone sprung into action. She pinned Lubbock's closest wrist behind him, then slammed his body against the wall. Then, she threw him onto the ground, before pinning him against the floor.

"Ow, ow, ow! Leone, what the—"

"Yeah, nice try, stranger. It was odd enough with you having to get me from the bar. Everyone knows I don't need that, because I'll always find my way home, and that I'm almost never late. Then you act all meek when I practically offered you a free pass to the baths. So, what's the deal? Where's the real Lubbock, hm?"

The one who had the appearance of "Lubbock" blinked up and her in shock, before his features slackened. He smiled and shrugged. "Guess there's no getting past you, huh?"

Leone's face was less than amused. "You got one more chance to be truthful, or this claw runs straight through your spine. I assure you it'll be a slow, painful death."

"'Sun sets on dastard scheme'."

"That's what I thought," Leone said, in response to the pass-phrase needed to identify their contact. She slowly eased off "Lubbock", though her body remained tensed. "Well, out with it, did you do something to him?"

The Lubbock imposter hissed as he stood and dusted himself off. "He's perfectly fine—those two never left the inn where you're staying." He smiled sheepishly at her. "Do forgive me for the attempted deception—I just wanted to see how good the other team was in spotting fakes, and also testing my own ability to gather information and use them well."

Leone quirked a brow. "Did it work?"

"Well, look at me, did you think it worked?" the imposter said with a huff. "Anyway, here." As Leone watched, Lubbock's form seemed to melt away and become an auburn-haired girl wearing some strange ornaments on her head. She opened her hands, as if to say she had nothing else on her sleeve. "I'm Chelsea, from the other team. Nice to meet you, Leone."

"Huh. Well that's a neat looking Teigu. Now I know why the leader sent you."

"I guess," Chelsea said, without elaborating, while adjusting her dress. "Shall we get a move on?"

When they returned to the inn, the real Lubbock predictably went goggle-eyed when he saw Chelsea. "Wow! Talk about a really spicy situation! Now we've almost all girls in the squad! Me likey! If not for Bulat it'd be a completely tasty situation…"

Chelsea smiled as she pointed at the man, like he were an interesting specimen on display at a zoo. "He's a funny guy."

"And you somehow missed _that_ aspect of his personality? You coulda fooled me better." Leone asked, with raised brow.

"Yeah, ordinarily I'd have waited a few more days, or at least a week to observe you all. I thought he was just this healthy guy, with a bit of a pervy side. I didn't know it went deeper than that. But the leader needs us soon, I guess, so…"

Lubbock looked from one to the other. "What're you babes talking about?"

Leone shook her head. "I'll tell you all about it later. Now that our contact's here, though, we should hustle."

Chelsea was introduced to the rest of Night Raid once they returned outside the town, and their wagon quickly began their overnight journey to the rendezvous location. Lubbock wasn't the only one to make the observation that they were nearly all women in the group now, though only he looked more than pleased with the prospect.

The wagon moved swiftly, thundering forward from the strength of the four horses attached to it. With the advent of Imperial ether, the need for horses grew scarce in the Empire's more prosperous regions. However, the supply of ether was heavily regulated, and there were few who could afford the battery-powered horseless wagons. The use of horses had dwindled—it had even outlawed in the Capital and other cities—but remained in use for those outside. It also meant that a casual observer, like for example the Emperor's roving eye, would not see anything strange about a horse-drawn wagon travelling in the depths of night.

Ordinarily, though, for purpose of expediency Night Raid would have access to a flying-type Danger Beast, or at least one of the floating boats the Army had stolen from the Empire. However, the risk of being discovered and marked by the Emperor or any of his sycophants was greater with such flashy means of travel. Frankly, it should be impossible for one Emperor to be able to see everything that happened under his domain, as he was only human. But it paid to be prudent and the least bit paranoid, as entire battles could hinge on one chance discovery.

When they reached their proper hideout, Lubbock was tasked with showing Chelsea around their base, to acclimate her to the various traps and other security mechanisms they had planted. Then they waited for the next day, when Najenda was expected to arrive with news of their plan.

The woman herself arrived by another wagon and was promptly ushered into their operations room where the rest of Night Raid awaited, freshened up and eager to listen to their leader's word.

"I see you're all ready," Najenda said, looking around with her one eye. "Good. I assume I need not stress the importance of this one mission of yours? This could very well change the course of history."

The others looked amongst themselves, before nodding to their leader in their own determined way. Nothing else needed to be said, and no second thoughts appeared. They had long been committed to this course.

"How does it work?" Leone said, speaking the question out loud for them all.

Najenda unfurled the rolls of paper she had brought, spread them all on the table, and then explained the plan.

When she concluded, the rest of them could only stare wide-eyed, their minds unable to fully comprehend what their leader had just said.

"N-no way," Lubbock said.

"Can it really be that simple?" Sheele voiced out nervously.

"I agree," came Akame's cold voice. Najenda locked gazes with her crimson pair of eyes. "This sounds too convenient. Did you not sense how much this smells like a trap?"

"Believe me, everyone at HQ also thinks that way," said Najenda. "We have found a way, however, to ensure his compliance." And she told them.

Akame still shook her head, while the others looked like they remained unconvinced. "Are we really just to take the word of a man like that on face value? He _benefits_ from the system we all swore to destroy."

"I know that guy," Chelsea said suddenly. Everyone turned to look at her. "And about the only thing remarkable about him is how unremarkable he's been. He's not bad enough to warrant a target by Night Raid, but he's not that good to be recruited into the rebels. I always thought he'd just remain that way for a long time. What's your opinion on his finally joining, leader?"

"I personally cannot say that I can vouch for him," said Najenda. "During my previous service I had no chance to observe him. I trust him as far as I can throw him. However, I also do trust in the methods which have been proposed to restrain him, and keep him at arms' length. He shall not gain our secrets, at least until our final triumph, where Honest and his ilk have been ousted from this world entirely. If he has anything to gain from association with us, it will only be the bare minimum. And if he proves treacherous in the end, well…"

A short silence followed. "Well, if leader says it's all peachy, then I'm all good with that," Lubbock said loudly. He looked around at the rest. "She's never led us astray yet, after all!"

In that instant, a little of the tension in the room eased. Their faces still looked doubtful, but their determination from before returned. The only one who had yet to look convinced was Akame, but she did say nothing else as the briefing continued.

"Unfortunately, we have yet no set time for this operation to start. What we have is a bare-bones plan structured in such a way that I can put in the details when the time comes. Before then, we are expected to wait at the Tilandr bastion so that we can monitor the situation, while also gaining access to the fleet for instant transportation."

The Tilandr Bastion was the location of the Revolutionary Army's HQ, located deep in rebel territory. It was the former location of the first city to rebel against the previous Emperor's short-sighted policies, as well as the primary location from where the fires of revolution spread outward. Owing to the need to secure its location, it had been turned into a fortified bastion, nestled within a series of mountains that impeded travel by foot. Access was therefore limited to any invading armies, while the immense tunnel networks the Army had been building all this time would ensure a quick escape if things got dire. HQ's one and only fear was if the _Pandemonium-_ class from the Capital unmoored itself to besiege them directly, but even that threat seemed like such a farfetched thing.

"Then what about our work?" Mine asked.

Najenda sighed before replying. "HQ understands the need for us to continue our primary objectives as Night Raid. But this opportunity is too big to delay for any reason. By the time you'd all have hitched a ride on an emergency floating boat, the window of opportunity may have passed. We therefore cannot squander that. But don't worry. We're only given a month of standby before we're scrapping this plan. Hopefully, we shan't be waiting long for that opportunity to come."

As promised, the next evening they were set to go to Tilandr via a scout boat. The day before had been spent dismantling their base as well as relocating Kanai's Cube. While the risk of discovery was high when using a flying ship, their destination was a place that was known to be in the hands of the Revolutionary Army already, so the Emperor somehow observing them wouldn't be that detrimental.

Though they could all fit into the boat, they did so by cramming into the cargo space towards the back, like meat in a crate. This initially delighted Lubbock, as about eighty-percent of his total body mass now made contact with warm female flesh. Unfortunately for the eager man, Leone and Mine assigned him next to Kanai's cube and Bulat, which kept him pinned and unable to even feel a hint of female heat.

"So this is Kanai's Cube, huh?" Chelsea wondered, reaching out a hand to touch the box.

"Wait, stop!" Lubbock cried, blocking her hand with his. Chelsea blinked, and looked around, as nearly everyone there had mimicked Lubbock's desperate cry. "It's really not a good idea," Lubbock said.

"Why not? I know how it works."

"That's… not really the point?" Lubbock replied. "I'm just saying that if you touch it, the Cube will automatically include you inside the bond, if there's a Teigu inside. And there _is_ a Teigu currently inside."

"Ohhh…" Chelsea said. She seemed to think for a bit, before attempting to place her hands on the Cube once more. "Okay, then."

"Whoa, whoa, wait a sec!" Lubbock shouted, warding off her hands yet again. "Are you crazy? I just told you all that, and you still want to touch it?"

"I well understand what it means. I know the risk. My fate will be bound to yours, isn't that right?" Chelsea looked around at the others. "But please do remember I'm a member of Night Raid, just the same as you. I hope you can learn to trust me, but that goes two ways—I'm also putting my trust in you guys. And what better way than to share in the Cube's influence?"

"Well said," Najenda said from the front. "I believe it's now time for me to join as well."

"Leader?" everyone cried, with accompanying gasps and exclamations. Since they'd acquired Kanai's Cube Najenda had never once used it for herself. That was partly because she had no Teigu (as far as they knew), and partly because as a leader in the Revolutionary Army and respected strategist, it was vital and understandable that she not die unexpectedly from a botched Night Raid mission, no matter how unlikely that outcome might be.

"Why, Najenda?" They asked.

"It's about time, I think," she replied easily, with a lopsided grin. "I can't have you all shoulder the burden alone anymore."

And with that said, both Chelsea and Najenda placed their hands on the Teigu. Immediately, a bright, golden light burst out and engulfed them all. A familiar feeling of doom settled in their minds, a reminder of their intertwined fates. The death of one would be the death of all, unless they each disconnected themselves from the Teigu. It was quite telling that both the newcomer to their group and their leader joined the circle of fate, as it crafted an invisible bond between all of them that nothing would ever break.

"Hmmmm… Nothing feels different," Chelsea said, examining her own hand. "I always wondered why your team got to use the Cube, but…"

"I had my reasons," Najenda said. "If you've any complaints…"

"No, no, I don't have anything stupid like that," Chelsea replied with a smile, waving her hands.

"If you're sure…" Najenda's face disappeared from view as she went back to her seat. "That being said, though," she continued from the cockpit, "While that was a really heartwarming gesture, we _won't_ be using the Cube for this mission."

Everyone looked surprised. "Why not?" Chelsea asked.

"Because this is an important mission, and we may have to sacrifice each other to get a chance at our target. And for that to happen, the Cube's bond will just be a liability. We need to manufacture as many opportunities for the kill as we can. That means we're going full 'classic'."

They all fell silent, but all agreed with their leader's logic. Of course, this also meant that Najenda treated the situation seriously enough that thoughts of their own mortality became all the more prominent.

After all, this might just be the mission where they die.

* * *

When the First Emperor ascended the Throne and concluded his Bargain, he also ended centuries of hereditary rulership, consolidating all the old kingdoms' lands into one Empire. No traces of the old nobility were left, not even their names—having been purged clean from history by some unknown hands.

The Emperor had the foresight to see he could not directly rule over such a vast piece of land directly. To that end, he divided up the Empire into regions according to the sectors designated from the Throne. To each region he assigned a governor, a Throne-appointed official whose time in office would vary. This was to thwart any attempts at inheritance, as the sole Imperial authority belonged to the Throne itself.

His first governors were his best and most loyal lieutenants, leaders of his armies whom he awarded with lavish ephemeral titles and honors. But they did not retain control over the victorious armies—instead, these were given over to new generals and leaders, who would comprise the newly reorganized Imperial Army. Fortunately, these men and women (who might have had unsightly ambitions despite their professed loyalty to the Emperor) all died one way or another before the Emperor did, allowing him to appoint new governors before his own death.

Each governor was expected to meet a quota of soldiers ready to join the official army every couple of years. They were forbidden from having armies of their own, to counter the fear of abusing their power for selfish ambitions. Aside from that, they were generally left to rule over their territories as they saw fit, only submitting to Imperial rule when the Emperor or his ministers wished it.

At the same time, the high commanders of the Army (and the nascent Naval equivalent) were encouraged to be elevated as supreme exemplars of Imperial Might, and were thus accorded many honors and privileges just short of actually granting them land, so as to again forestall the rise of an emergent feudal system. The most accomplished leaders were immortalized in the Hall of War, a grand shrine located in the capital. The best among them were granted the powerful Teigu, and had their feats forever etched into history. It was hoped they would be satisfied with such awards, even if they left nothing but a modest but richly funded estate for their progeny upon their deaths.

Many would readily admit, though, that being general was far from an easy job. If it was not the need to go to the front lines for any given moment due to a brewing rebellion, there was also the many wars the Empire needed to wage against all its neighbors. While the Empire was bountiful when it was allowed to be and could provide adequate food, shelter and protection for all its citizens, it yet needed to be defended from many threats, both from within and without. A general's life was one of vigilance, unless they succumb to the temptation and become rebels themselves.

The aforementioned system did not last long. Successive Emperors interpreted the First's laws in their own way: granting a general's title to a governor, and vice versa. Fortunately, there were secret measures that ensured that in the thousand years since the Bargain, no aspiring governor or general rebelled against the Throne after being granted favors that were not their due. What these measures were fell to conjecture, but most whispers pointed to the Imperial assassination squads formed by the Ministry of Rooks, the Imperial intelligence department.

When governors rebelled, it was usually at the head of a rabble army of volunteers from the cities they ruled. When generals rebelled, it was usually deprived of support from the governors or the lands they administrated, forcing them to steal and raid like an army of brigands before Imperial justice reached them.

This, of course, discounted the many years of conflict brought about by ambitious claimants to the Throne and other wars brought about by a mix of conspiring governors and generals forming a united front. These were a component of Imperial factionalism, which still retained a form of segregation between governors and generals—especially in the case of a successful intrigue which would make a grateful Emperor or minister grant boons to their supporters. Governors were granted more land and riches, and generals more status, and not the other way around, especially by the more canny Emperors.

The only exception in recent memory was the Revolutionary Army, and only because it was an offshoot of a rebel army that had been allowed to grow for a long time. At its core it was a governor who'd rebelled during the succession war and had, in the interim, attracted sub-commanders from disgruntled armies and the mayors of various cities to form its own nation-like hierarchy. It was only at the height of its power, which caused even the Empire to be cautious, that generals and governors began to defect to it, thus expanding its reach significantly.

The current Army and Navy followed the First's standards for the most part. Generals and Admirals were hand-picked from the roster of promising officers. There was also always a fixed amount of them, each assigned to their respective armies, with no one living idle without their own command. Those extras who didn't fit the needs of the Empire were usually discharged quietly and never heard from again.

Unfortunately, in the opinion of Budo, the oldest and longest-living of the Empire's generals, this current crop of generals were inferior to all that came before. It was a sad fact that nearly all of those he would consider peers had died in the succession war that the current Prime Minister Honest had been involved in. This led to a batch of uninspired and uninspiring generals who liked to linger in the Capital with their armies, adamantly refusing to head out into the field and engage the Revolutionary Army.

This was an absolute disgrace of the rank, in Budo's opinion, and the Empire may well have fallen already if not for a few things. First, there was the existence of the powerful, infamously terrifying "Ice Queen", who absolutely dominated the field against the Revolutionary Army. It was said that she had the capability to take on an army all by herself, just like Budo, and that she was the only reason that the Revolutionary Army had to rely on assassinations through Night Raid instead of openly fighting and besieging the Empire.

Second, there was the fact that for the moment the other nations had been subdued handily during the last campaign held by the previous Emperor, who had also been the one to appoint Budo as general. Although no territories had been taken or given, they had caused such havoc and raided so far into the other nations' lands that a number of people had been killed or taken as slaves, their lands burned, their cities despoiled—that it was estimated to take another generation before they regained the strength to attack again. But Budo thought if they even dared, the might of Esdeth would probably be enough to repel them again—he conceded that she was an unparalleled individual who would certainly be able to pull that off.

The third fact was that there was a new Emperor, who was, as Budo saw it, that sort of individual who generally led suicidal charges into the breach. In the form of an Emperor, Budo predicted it might lead to some interesting developments in the future. He'd initially assumed the new successor who'd been accepted by the Throne to be yet another one of Honest's lackeys. But looking into his background, he found it impossible for the Prime Minister to have influenced the boy so early. Meeting him personally had also solidified the view, as the young Emperor was guileless to the point of wearing his emotions entirely on his sleeve.

It turned out his predictions were slightly correct. Word came a day before of the Emperor's intention to hold a meeting with all the generals. Conveniently enough, there were plenty of them already in the Capital, so it didn't take long to gather them all. As usual, the call was sent to Esdeth, who was currently _the only one in the field_ ; and just as usual, she refused, citing an imminent battle with a tribe of hostile beastmen. Budo didn't know whether to be angry or relieved at the wayward general for that.

The meeting room was small, and was intentionally spartan and cramped in appearance, to highlight its use purely as a means to discuss war. Gatherings involving diplomacy, finances and other needs were to be held in other rooms if possible. However, owing to the needs of the current batch of generals, there were tables filled with food and ready to be served at the generals' request. Thus, to Budo's consternation this had more of a feeling of a tea party instead of a military meeting, which infuriated him, but he allowed it, for now. Any of these fools might have connection to Honest, who was arguably the most powerful man in the Empire at the moment.

"General Budo, you are punctual as always," said the first general to arrive after him. Budo nodded his greeting silently, and remained standing at the far end of the table. Isolated, just as he intended to be. The rest came in afterwards: in trickles, until they reached a certain number where they able to congregate into various little groups.

Despite being technical equals, these men and women still clung to a sort of "hierarchy", with Budo and Esdeth treated as outsiders at best, and inferior at the worst. Budo didn't deign to learn all that much about their little coteries, as it stank too much of the same court politics that plagued the rule of the Empire's various governors, where sycophants plotted fruitlessly for bare scraps of favor. It honestly sickened him to see it acted out among the generals, who were tasked with the Empire's protection. Unfortunately, he could no more order them around nor discipline them than he could throw off his shackles as head of the Imperial Guard, which kept him in the Capital indefinitely.

There was the expected divide between the generals and the "admirals"—the perceived arrogance of admirals just for being given command of a portion of the Imperial air fleets contrasted with the admirals feeling ostracized as a result and banding together. Then there were associations by their background: certain territories were deemed more rural and backwater by most, and those who came from there were therefore considered less educated or less cultured as a result. And then there were those whose loyalties were to certain influential Ministries or governors, and thus had been successfully plied with enough bribes to become their loyal allies when the time came—usually by lobbying for increased Army presence in certain territories, or by ensuring a portion of wealth intended for the Army be instead relocated to a city for "more efficiency".

Budo held nothing but supreme contempt for each and every one of them. He reserved a small portion of that for himself, however, for even suffering them like this for so long. In a way, he had become just as much of a problem general as all the rest.

When those who had been summoned had all arrived and had been well-oiled by various dishes and were already well into their second serving of wine, the door opened with much fanfare as a duo of royal guards entered, bearing long halberds. They each took a spot to flank the doors as Honest strolled through them, bearing his enormous bulk forward with pride. Yet the one who followed along behind him caused each of the assembled generals, including Budo, to stand at attention, placing their fists to their chest in the Imperial military salute.

"Hail, Emperor!"

The young Emperor strolled in, bright-eyed and eager, wearing a crisp military uniform and dark cape. For the first time, his manner of dress actually seemed to fit him, unlike his flowing Emperor dress that sometimes seemed to be too big for him to wear. As such he gave off the feeling of a young officer in training, which could be taken in two ways: that he was new blood eager to learn, or that he was supremely inexperienced for the job he was about to do.

Everyone looked to Honest to say something, as was expected, but the man made a beeline for the food trays while the Emperor confidently strode past the saluting generals to stand beside Budo at the head of the table. After nodding subtly at him, the Emperor clapped his hands.

"Good day to you all. I trust you are all ready for the meeting? Is there anyone of you who needs a little more time to eat?" Despite the young man's innocent-sounding tone when he asked that question, none of the generals present dared to say anything. In fact, their eyes constantly went back and forth between the gorging Honest and the Emperor, as if looking for some sort of guidance. They were all yet unsure on how to personally deal with the new power on the Throne, especially one who hadn't been much of a personality to them yet.

"Prime Minister, will you be joining us?" the Emperor asked.

"In a little while, Your Majesty. But please, do not wait on my account, gentlemen."

With that, everyone could read between the lines. The one who presumed the power behind the Throne endorsed whatever the Emperor was doing. And yet he did so in such a way that it still sounded like the new Emperor was relying on Honest as well.

With that, the various generals went into their apportioned seats accompanied by a chorus of mumbles and whispers. Only the Emperor remained standing, with an easy smile on his face, as he took out what looked to be some sort of branding rod and slapped its end against the Empire's map laid out on the table.

"My loyal generals, many things have come to my attention since I was accepted by the Throne as the new Emperor. It cannot be understated: the Empire is in dire straits. And I aim to fix that, no matter the cost. There are many things we have to do first, but the most important one must be addressed." He raised his rod, and again planted the tip of his rod on the red-shaded spots on the map, which indicated the Revolutionary Army territories. "This rebellion must be crushed, once and for all!"

Before the silence following the announcement could extend farther than two seconds, the Prime Minister raised his voice and clapped. "Hear, hear, to the Empire!"

At that, the other generals clapped and hooted as well, uttering oaths of "Death to the rebels!", "Good show!" and "Hail the Emperor!" Only Budo remained unmoving, having not clapped at all.

"Therefore, beginning right this moment I am authorizing a great campaign that will begin to clean out this rabble from our cities, so that the Empire may prosper."

As another round of clapping began, a voice called out amid the dim. "So what are our plans then, Emperor?" Everyone looked and saw General Abell, a slightly plump man, ask that question with a smiling face. Of all the sycophants here, Abell was one whom Budo knew to have endured a long three-month campaign against would-be deserters to the rebels, with mixed results. In the end, he had to call upon Esdeth for help, damaging his long-term credentials (though this was during the succession war, where such things were easily forgotten).

"If it is in terms of military planning, then I truthfully must defer to you, my good sirs. You all have the experience and training necessary to lead our Armies to victory." Budo almost snorted at that. "This meeting then is for us all to decide upon a concrete plan that shall begin tomorrow at the earliest, in order to root out this so-called 'Revolutionary Army' once and for all.

"General Budo," Budo blinked when the Emperor turned to address him. "Would it be possible to use the _Pandemonium-_ class for this campaign?"

He frowned. "Absolutely not. The fuel cost needed for such an expense would be astronomical. Not to mention it would leave the Capital thoroughly exposed—"

"Got it, well, is there a possible alternative of using our flying ships to transport men and material?"

Budo blinked at the interruption, but was forced to close his mouth as the Emperor had immediately moved on as if nothing had happened. The rest of them, though, _had_ seen the interruption, and now had various amounts of amusement on their faces, not the least of which was Honest's, who looked downright smug. He scowled—he was greatly unamused.

General Abell was the one who took up the answer, in the meantime. "I'm sure we can accommodate that, my lord. Before the day ends, we'll have arranged the proper transports and the armies to be assigned to this… Well, do you happen to have a general plan of action, my lord? A primary target for our efforts?"

"Ahhh… well, I don't really have anything in mind at the moment…" the Emperor said, scratching his head. "Which is why I'm asking you guys if you have any suggestions."

The generals passed glances among themselves. Yet again, before anyone could speak, General Abell spoke, "If I may suggest, we do have certain problematic areas we can target first…" And so he proceeded to outline a plan to conquer several certain cities in a particular area. Budo didn't know if the others realized, but the plan essentially called for the protection of his governor friend's territories, which were located close to the cities Abell wanted to liberate.

"… In doing so, we remove what we call the ugly 'hump' that inhibits our iron-producing territories. With the cities under our command once more, we shall have permanent parity over the Revolutionary Army, as it will be impossible for the rebels to maintain their supplies without a reliable source of the ores in these hills."

"That does sound like a good plan," the Emperor remarked. "Are there any objections or alternatives?"

Two other plans were outlined: one using the sea to bypass the great rebel fortress line and reach the Tilandr Bastion without having to advance through a whole lot of hostile territory. The other was to secure a mountain range that was breeding ground for brigands and Army sympathizers, which was also a suspected major route through which the rebels were thought to transport in much of its supplies.

The third proposal was the first to die, as even Budo himself voiced the stupendous risk in having to contend with hostile mountainous terrain and the presence of bandits and rebel groups. Then, the water route was shot down as well, for it was pointed out by a number of admirals that the defenses at the rear had not been well mapped, which risked a major rout if the rebels had fortified that area.

Abell's suggestion was the safest and most orthodox course, allowing the use of superior Imperial numbers and firepower to slowly wear away at the Rebel's front-line. A plan was therefore formed, with several generals and admirals volunteering to lead the various branches of the Army to secure the cities. They were all surprised then, to learn that the Emperor also wanted to come as well.

This time, even Budo could not hold himself back. "My lord, I must protest this!"

"It'll be fine. I do not fear assassinations, General Budo," the Emperor said. "Besides, it would be far more inspiring to the people if I came along personally right? Even if I do defer to all your superior skills in leading, of course."

"In that case, my lord," said General Abell, "Allow me to be the one to be your escort! I and my army shall work to ensure you are safe from all harm."

"Alright, that sounds good."

Budo could only shake his head at the young Emperor's foolhardiness. He was hardly a year ruling and already he was taking many risks. The Empire may yet fall if he wasn't careful with his head. He frowned. _Perhaps he could-_?

No, his place was here. His eyes went to Honest, who was busy chowing down on food in the background. In case the reckless Emperor did get himself killed, Budo wanted to be here, in command of the _Pandemonium-_ class, so he could finally mete out justice against the rotten Prime Minister. If the man somehow survived the many powerful guns, then Budo would use his Teigu to see to it personally that the man was gutted for his many crimes to the Empire.

Unaware of his thoughts, the Emperor continued to consult with the generals without his input. They spent the whole day fleshing out the details of the Campaign that would begin as soon as possible.

Then the Emperor dropped his last bombshell.

"I'd like General Esdeth to capture this fortress here," he said. The other generals looked at him in surprise. "I have heard of her skill, and would like to see it personally."

"But, my lord—"

The Emperor held out a hand. "I know her personality, for goodness sake it's all anyone can talk about! And that's precisely what I need to see and confirm for myself. So send the command, and tell her it's a demotion if she refuses."

Budo could see Honest's face twist in mirth as silence fell after the Emperor's words. He slightly re-evaluated the young Emperor. Perhaps he wouldn't be assassinated after all; he'd actually die impaled on a spike of ice.

* * *

Along the great slopes of Mt. Scapaios, named after the gigantic dragon whose bones could be seen buried in its mighty peak, there lived quite a number of Danger Beasts. All along the forests that made up the mountain's base they hunted and fought each other in titanic duels that few people ever saw. And few ever saw them because none dared to live there, particularly with the presence of not just the numerous Danger Beasts, but the tribes of vicious beastmen that called the Scapaian forests their own.

Hunched and mangy, with bodies shaped like burly, unwashed and unshaved men, bearing snouted heads reminiscent of various animals with sharp, mismatched teeth growing along their mouths, these creatures were known as the Kahzrak. They had existed since before the Empire's founding, and had been a blight on the lands of men for that same amount of time. Theirs was a peculiar society, built around worshipping the various Danger Beasts that lived in Scapaia. They had mastered fire, and the implements of war that could be forged from it, though with markedly lesser expertise than Man. They were built along tribes or clans, loosely affiliated bands that frequently warred against one another.

The settlements closest to Scapaia had long suffered the rampant raids and incursions from frenzied Kahzrak, who looted and despoiled much in their mad, unknowable quest for destruction. No one had ever been able to communicate with the creatures, despite the many specimens of creatures that had been dissected in the Imperial Research Institutes for thousands of years. All that was known about them were gleaned from the studies of intrepid adventurers and the experiences of the frontier towns that bordered Mt. Scapaia. And the only thing that any sane person should know about the Kahzrak was to stay the hell away.

This was not the case for those wishing to hone their strengths in the wretched forest. Over time, many had either succumbed to the dangers in Scapaia, or had emerged as undisputed champions after cutting a swathe through both Danger Beast and Kahzrak. Among those of the latter group was the Empire's infamous "Ice Queen", already feared throughout the land for her military exploits. Her fell reputation was enhanced further by her constant forays into Mt. Scapaia. She was perhaps the only human to also be a terror in those forests as she was outside of it, leaving nothing but piles of frost-bitten pieces in her wake.

Not even her lieutenants, the Three Beasts, could match their master in facing down the dangers of Scapaia whenever she had the urge to let off some steam. They were each formidable fighters, and wielded their own powerful Teigu. Yet even they would find difficulty in the treacherous forest, as the Kahzrak were crafty and wielded strange magics themselves. It required a tremendous, overwhelming force, on par with that of a Danger Beast, to walk fearlessly and unscathed through the forest, and even the most bloodthirsty of the trio, Nyau, conceded the impossibility of following Esdeth into the forest.

This was the reason why they were currently in the encampment right outside the forest's perimeter, placed on standby while their master indulged in her battle lust. While each were devoted to Esdeth in their own way, none of them showed any outward concern for her entering the forest of death alone: this was just their way of acknowledging that they had faith in their master, no matter what.

Presently, one of their number, a disgraced former general named River, was busy cooking a meal on the campfire when a soldier bustled into the general's tent, breathless. "My lords, the comm device has been pinged!"

Each of the Three Beasts present looked at the soldier in silence before they looked at each other.

"The General's not here, as you well know," Liver said.

"But sirs…!" the soldier insisted. "It's the _Emperor…!_ "

Liver was just about to say a well-rehearsed line when the tall, burly man who'd been quietly doing pushups to the side rose and towered above the hapless soldier. "Listen here, shortstack," said Daidara. "I'm gonna assume you're another one of those new transfers from another division. You still haven't had time to settle down, everything's so fresh and new, huh? Am I wrong? Well, here in General Esdeth's army we prize two things above all: strength and spine and a huge appetite for battle."

"That's three things," said Nyau.

"And that's just the three basic things," Daidara said without missing a beat. "But there's one big rule we've always got to follow as part of the General's army: You do _not_ fuck around with her orders. Whatever she says, goes."

"Does that count as two big rules now?"

"…And we don't care if it's General Budo, or the Prime Minister, or the Emperor, or the goddamned Wanderer: when General Esdeth says to fuck off, fuck off!"

Just before the intimidated soldier could leave on his shaky legs, River intervened, and asked, "Hold, soldier. What exactly did the Emperor want?"

"W-w-well he wanted to speak with the General," the soldier stammered. "A-and we all knew—because we know all the rules, sirs—and we told the Emperor she was busy—"

"You _what_?" River cried. "You didn't tell him she was here, _hunting_ , in Mt. Scalaia?" Nyau swore, somewhat uncharacteristic for one with such a pretty face. Daidara, meanwhile, looked like he could decapitate the quivering soldier any second.

"W-we did—I mean, _I_ certainly didn't, but some of the other guys in the tent said so, sir! And then the Emperor, he—" The soldier paused, as if suddenly reluctant to continue what he was about to say.

"Well? Out with it, soldier!" River insisted heatedly.

"H-he said, sir, that he was an understanding fellow and understood the General's need to hunt some Danger Beasts, but that afterwards she should come join him in conquering a couple of territories from the rebels. Sir. And—and—if she don't comply, she's gonna be demoted from General… sir."

Utterly surprised, the Three Beasts looked at each other. They were thoroughly amazed that someone would have the gall to order the General around like that. Their shared moment of surprise was enough to allow the soldier to beat a hasty retreat.

"The balls on that kid," Nyau said in the silence.

"It's his funeral," Daidara remarked, nodding to himself.

"Be that as it may, we have no reason not to take the Emperor's word at face value," River said. His background as a former general lent well to situations like these, as he was the only one who retained a little pragmatism when it came to his master's various caprices. He sighed, and looked around at each of his fellows. "Who shall summon her?"

Each of the Three Beasts swallowed, their eyes turning towards the device placed in the very corner of the tent. It was a one-way signal to a mechanism on General Esdeth's person, which would alert her to return. She had given strict orders to the three of them that she was only to be disturbed in this way if anything truly catastrophic were happening, such as a freak occurrence of magic or some apocalyptic bullshit that even she could sense a mile away. Else, she did not care if there was a rebel army marching on their camp at the moment, she was _not_ to be disturbed!

It went without saying that the person who'd summon her needed to be one of the Three Beasts. And it needed to be the one among them currently with nothing to lose in the face of their master's potential wrath. After all, they had every reason to believe Esdeth's threat of cutting their balls and feeding them to the pigs if she was ever disturbed for anything less.

"Flip for it?" River suggested.

Even Nyau, who was ever smiling and jeering in the face of certain death, hesitated now to take the coin River passed around. The Three Beasts, veterans of a thousand massacres, stared determinedly at their palms, from where fortune or misfortune would spring. They swallowed, and after a hidden signal, flipped the coin.

In the end, it didn't matter who it was that drew the short end. General Esdeth's wrath was a terrible thing to behold, and it did not fall on one man's head alone.

* * *

The ship thrummed, pulsed and rumbled around him, like he was living in the belly of an enormous beast. And yet, that wasn't the only thing vibrating.

Tatsumi himself churned with unspent energy, as his excitement kept on growing and growing to a fever pitch. He paced his quarters endlessly, clenching and unclenching his fists, the feeling of tension filled his body to a point where it might just explode. It was the same thrill he felt on the night before a scheduled Hunt, as if he were a predator who'd long smelled the blood and was all ready to pounce, yet there was no prey in sight.

His two friends, Sayo and Ieyasu, were oblivious to his plight. Their gazes were fixed on the view outside the small porthole that showed the endless blue sky extending far in the horizon. The three of them were in Tatsumi's quarters inside the large underbelly of the _Ordos-_ class flying ironside _._ It was a small and cramped space fitted with only a table and chair as furniture, a small privy, sink, and an emergency escape slot. Tatsumi could only therefore pace a few steps, as there was really no space left in the room.

Truth be told, the Emperor's personal quarters was supposed to be the Admiral's quarters, but the Admiral had been reassigned after Tatsumi had insisted on coming with the campaign fleet. The ship then functioned under the chief adjutant's command, while one General named Abell was given the task of defending the Emperor with the detachment of soldiers carried on the ship. Much had been shifted around to accommodate Tatsumi's whim, as Honest was fond of pointing out again and again.

Sayo and Ieyasu reflected the child-like wonder that was on Tatsumi's own face half an hour past. This was when General Abell had led them on a tour through the insides of the ship while it was already in motion. Most of the structure gave Tatsumi the impression of fish tightly packed in a barrel. Much of the space within the ship was dedicated to the various machinery that kept the ship operating. In various places, it also smelled strongly of a substance that Abell called the "ether runoff", which made the trio's eyes water and sting after a prolonged time exposed to it.

There was also a persistent humming noise coming from all the gathered machinery that left a buzzing in Tatsumi's mind, even up to the present. General Abell explained that nearly 90% of the entire ship was geared towards making it float via the enormous ether batteries, as well as allowing it to move around and maneuver. The other 9% was left to the other systems, like navigation, weaponry, countermeasures and emergency mechanisms as well as the boarding and deployment mechanisms for the elements of the army transported in the ship. The mere 1% left over was dedicated to the ship's crew itself, who were composed of sailors, navigators, gunners and engineers who were all expected to do the work of all other crewmembers at any given time. This was, the General explained, the reason why a flying ship of this size, although dwarfed immensely by the _Pandemonium-class_ back in the Capital, was to be led by a single Admiral, as if it were an army unto itself. Without the crew's expert and tireless functioning, the ship was literally a useless hunk of iron on the ground.

"There are many other classes of ships like these, my lord," General Abell explained. Although possessing a significant paunch and a bald pate, he looked quite sagely with his graying beard and mustache. His scholar-like lectures also lent well to the impression. "They are all geared towards various functions. The _Ordos-_ class, for example, is built for the speedy deployment and transfer of armies across the field. The _Castellum_ line of ships, on the other hand, are for prolonged sieges, Danger Beast hunting, or for use in the nigh-impossible chance the enemy side has ironside ships of their own. Then there are the slimmer _Nomad_ vessels, which head our interception fleets that exclusively hunt down smaller boats. Their ships are designed to house the smaller boats within, and are unsuitable for army transportation entirely. It all depends on the situation, you see, and that is how certain admirals are chosen for specific jobs."

"You seem so knowledgeable about all this, General Abell," Tatsumi said. "Why aren't you an admiral instead?"

"Truth be told, I _was_ aiming for that position, my lord," the general replied. "However, this was during that unfortunate war, and the hierarchy was in a dreadful state. The army needed more generals than admirals then, and thus I was put to work."

"Oh, okay." Tatsumi glanced awkwardly at Sayo and Ieyasu, whose expressions mirrored his own. It seemed like they had stepped into a landmine of sorts. "Er… would you like to be renamed as admiral, then?"

"Hohoho," the man said, chortling, as he stroked his beard. It was a tic he seemed to share with the Prime Minister. "I do appreciate the offer, my lord, but I am too much ingrained with my own soldiers now that I've been a general for so long. I've formed a sort of bond with them. Wherever they go, I follow; and naturally that goes both ways." And so Tatsumi left it at that.

All in all, he was thankful to the General for taking the time to show them around. Of course, Tatsumi recognized that the man might just be buttering him up in order to get into his good graces, but he appreciated the effort all the same. As long as it wasn't something that sounded or smelled bad, then Tatsumi was fully ready to reward good work with Imperial favor when it was deserved.

"We ever ask how this emergency thing is supposed to work?" Ieyasu remarked. He was now examining the portion of the wall which said CAUTION: PULL DURING EMERGENCIES ONLY. Both the chief adjutant and General Abell had stressed to Tatsumi multiple times on the importance of following the written warning to the letter.

"Don't touch anything," Sayo said, sounding exasperated.

"I wasn't going to," Ieyasu said, protesting. "Besides, it wouldn't do to have my name go down as the assassin to the world's last Emperor if I ended up doing something stupid."

"Sheesh, don't say scary stuff like that!" Sayo scolded. "Don't you know the spirits can hear and might just invite bad luck?"

As Sayo began on her latest sermons, Tatsumi's lips curled up into a fond smile. It had been Ieyasu's idea for the two of them to volunteer as his bodyguards. At first, he'd been very skeptical, as the two of them were quite likely the most unconventional bodyguards ever. He'd seen examples of his own bodyguards: tough, grizzled soldiers trained to stand around and wait on him for hours on end while clad in resplendent, identical armor. He wasn't sure he wanted that for his friends: he'd always imagined getting them some sort of job at the capital or something.

But then, even Sayo had voiced her approval of the plan. "To them, we're basically friends, aren't we? So it'd make sense for us to stick together than most. So why not become your official bodyguards while we're at it?"

Seeing no other objection to it, he went to the Prime Minister with the suggestion. Honest had been greatly amused at the idea, and had then pointed out to Tatsumi that technically there was no restrictions on who he could assign as his bodyguards. He was the Emperor, after all. However, there was a security detail already assigned to him 24/7, so it was only a matter of informing the head of the palace guards that Ieyasu and Sayo were to be considered like they were one of them—even if their skillsets were vastly different. (Honestly, Tatsumi would bet money his friends could beat his bodyguards in a straight up fight)

Cue the trip to Martin the Skeleton's forge, from where the two of them were granted access to two of the master smith's masterpieces.

Ieyasu had acquired a pair of single-headed hand axes, with a sleek design that allowed him to throw it with little loss in accuracy if needed. The axe head was built from the same material that was used to armor an Imperial flying ship. The grooved grips meant he could leverage his strikes for more power. There was a retractable spike towards the edge of the handles for extra utility. In addition, all of Martin's creations were said to feature a certain gimmick or two. Tatsumi's katana, for example, featured a hollow handle, inside of which one could secretly store anything that would fit. In this case, Ieyasu's gift of weaponry had a magnetic bonding mechanism that would allow one axe to fly back towards its owner if it had been thrown, as long as the other axe was still held in hand. It required a little practice from Ieyasu to prevent the axe from simply flying back and decapitating him on the return trip, but he promised to master it.

Sayo, on the other hand, never got the daggers Tatsumi was expecting to give her. As soon as Martin discovered that she preferred to use bows, the skeleton had seemed excited to usher them into a particular shelf, where he then gave her the weapon secured to her back today. It was an unusually shaped and forged bow, as it was made of metal, with limbs that were completely inelastic, giving it the appearance of a staff. Instead, a pulley mechanism jutting out from the ends of the limb, connected to some mechanism hidden within the hollowed chamber of the bow, added the necessary force and tension to fire a shot. Having tested it herself, Sayo marveled that it didn't feel any different than when using her old standby bow that was made of wood, which was remarkable. But that wasn't its only function. The bow also acted as a very formidable quarterstaff, which was light enough to not burden her if she ever started swinging. The switching mechanism was also near automatic, meaning she could seamlessly switch to preparing an arrow to fire in just a couple of seconds. However, just like Ieyasu she now had to train to use the staff form properly, as it was dead weight otherwise.

Tatsumi wasn't really expecting his friends to die for him, as the bodyguards were sworn to do. It was kind of awkward to ask that of his friends, admittedly. It was vastly different from trusting them with his back whenever they were grouped together during a Danger Beast hunt. In that instance, they acted as a functioning team expected to fight together. It was already difficult enough treating them as his companions even when they were already technically his "employees" with compensation already prepared for them from the Imperial Treasury.

He sighed. It was just one of many things he now had to juggle as a newly minted Emperor. The village elder had remarked to him when they'd met that the job would make him old before the year was out; Tatsumi truly doubted it would take that long for him to look just as wrinkled and gray as that guy.

The comm-device on the table suddenly bleeped, drawing all their attention towards it. The sound was shrill and loud, which made answering it pretty much a necessity.

"Yes?" Tatsumi said, upon answering.

"Greetings, my lord," came the garbled voice. "This is General Abell. We are approaching our destination, and have already spotted our rendezvous at the location. Would you like to come up to the deck?"

"Uh… sure."

"Very well, my lord. And do be sure to prepare for the cold."

The deck of the ship was a flat surface situated at its top, just the same as actual decks on water-borne ships. Unlike the latter, it served no practical purpose for personnel, as the high altitude winds made it impossible to work. But it did make for a good view, as long as one minded the edge.

"You guys coming?" he asked his friends.

"Of course," they both said, as if he'd said something strange.

When Tatsumi left his quarters, both Ieyasu and Sayo flanked him from behind, which made him self-conscious all the way up to the deck.

The wind buffeted him the very instant he cleared the open hatch leading to the deck. Tatsumi clutched the emergency safety railing, which was supposed to be used during emergencies if the deck or upper sections ever caught fire, and made his way over to where General Abell and some of his soldiers were waiting towards the ship stern. Walking that distance in these types of wind was made all the more daunting by the way the ship swayed and creaked beneath his feet, as if the whole edifice would fall apart in mere seconds.

"Hail, Emperor!" everyone of them greeted when he approached. Tatsumi felt like he'd been climbing a sheer cliff by the time he'd arrived.

"There it is, my lord," said General Abell, gesturing to the land far below. Tatsumi looked and saw their target, the city of Folkis. At this height, it was just a tiny spot on the distance, but he knew it was a large city, where about a forty-thousand souls lived. He could see the sloped terrain of the hills around it, which made it difficult to attack in a full-on siege. It was also a source of much-needed wealth, as the ore in its veins would help immensely with the war effort.

He had been told that Folkis had been captured through quite a bit of treachery. The governor who was supposed to lead Folkis was still loyal to the Empire, but his subordinate mayor had long been a sympathizer for the rebels. When illegal activities had been discovered, the mayor was said to have feigned outrage and begged for an entire garrison of troops to help "purify" his city. The governor, enthusiastic to prove his loyalty to the Empire, sent in five scout ships for good measure. However, the mayor had sprung a trap, killing all the loyal soldiers sent to help, and had then acquired the ships for the rebel cause. A rebel army then moved in and fortified the city, thereby denying its use for the Empire.

"The crew has informed me," said the General, who had to shout to make his voice heard above all the noise surrounding them, "That they are beginning descent procedures. Before long we'll be able to dock and unload my army."

"I was wondering," Tatsumi said in turn, "Won't the people in the city know we're coming? They can probably see us up here!"

"Oh, they're already well aware, my lord!" the General said. "And it's fortunate for us they don't have the sort of anti-air guns we've got lining the Capital! This would have been a very dicey descent otherwise!"

Tatsumi continued to watch as the ground got closer and closer by the second. Soon, they had cleared the level of the sky that brought with it high winds—now it was relatively calmer, but then it also made the sounds of the ship below more apparent and loud.

Then a booming alarm sounded. Tatsumi looked around in confusion, before turning to the General.

"That's a beat to quarters, my lord!" the General said hastily. "It means we're under attack! You have to get to—"

"Um, Tatsumi? Something's coming," Sayo said, squinting with her eyes.

At her words, they turned and saw a most amazing thing. A long, tall column of ice was slowly ascending towards them, looking like a growing needle from this distance. At the tip of it, riding the growing column upward, was a lone figure, a familiar one to Tatsumi. Her long sable hair was unmistakable, even from afar.

"That's—" Everyone's jaws went down in shock.

"General Esdeth?" said Abell in shock. "But—"

The whole ship shook, making their bodies crumple and tumble to the floor.

"What's going on?" Abell demanded of the comm device.

"General Abell, General Esdeth has attacked us! She's overloaded the engines with some sort of immobilizing frost!"

"Absurd! Why is she even—" The General's question was answered soon enough when the column of ice finally speared up and past their level, followed by a flurry of crystallizing ice that soon encrusted the surface of the deck in a massive wave. Esdeth descended with all the grace of a flying swan, before waving carelessly and knocking away the soldiers in Abell's group with a strong breeze. Surrounded by the ice she looked greatly like a divine apparition of the winter storm, cloaked in a mantle of sheer, irresistible power.

Her intentions were obvious to all who were present to witness her arrival. It was clear from the moment she appeared—her eyes had instantly sought him, vengeful and angry.

She then glided purposely towards him, and then thrust the tip of her sword towards his throat.

"Tatsumi!"

His two friends went up, Ieyasu from the side and Sayo from the rear, baring their weapons. Esdeth's eyes flicked from left to right in a quick motion, before returning solely to him.

"Are these your new bodyguards, 'Emperor'? I think you're better served hiring actual dogs to protect you," she said mirthlessly. "You know why I'm here, I wager."

"No, not really," said Tatsumi, who cocked a brow. She bristled at that, and he was quick to then say, "Unless it's to complain about my orders?"

"…Really now. I thought I'd make you swallow your own frozen entrails if you acted dumb. Now, out with it. Why did you call me here?"

"Um, isn't that obvious? I need your—the _Empire_ needs your power to help conquer the rebels once and for all."

The woman chuckled. "Have you not been informed by your Prime Minister? I accepted to join the Empire, to become its general, but not to become its lapdog. I go wherever I please, do whatever I find pleasing. That was the pact I made with Honest from the start. And neither he nor any Emperor can change that."

"If you wished not to be a lapdog, then why are you here?"

Her eyes flashed, and Tatsumi could distinctly sense his friends cry out as an ice spike grew from the tip of her sword to touch its tip so close to his throat. He felt it bite into his skin, barely enough to pierce through and draw blood. "You mock me, child?"

"General Esdeth," Tatsumi said sternly. "You are certainly powerful enough to be a General of the Empire. And I am told you have done much to earn your reputation on the battlefield. But in my opinion, you haven't done enough just yet. A legion of enemies continue to stand before us, and we have taken far too long to defeat them. To take back what is rightfully the Empire's."

Esdeth chuckled. "And what if I defect from your precious Empire, 'my lord'? Throw in my lot with the more reasonable rebellion? Do my part to savor your innocent squeals as I skewer you on your Throne?"

Tatsumi smiled. "You won't do that. The rebellion would never allow you to do whatever you want. See, you have the smell of a Danger Beast about you, General Esdeth. You live in a house made from the bones of your foes. They would no sooner ally with you than clap you in chains and make sure you never saw the light of day again." He shrugged. "You are certainly welcome to try it, though. But be warned that I and my village have made it a sport to hunt down Danger Beasts. You won't be any different, I suspect."

"Bold words, boy. Do you even have the skills to back that up?"

"Whether or not I do have it is out of the question." He waved his arms in a downward cutting motion. "I've had enough, General Esdeth. I'm fed up with this exchange. Either help me by doing your best down there against the rebels, or get you gone with your tail between your legs. All the same, get out of my sight." These last words were said with such heated outrage that Sayo and Ieyasu were taken aback. It was like they were looking at a person who was so much unlike their friend. And yet it was also very Tatsumi-like to lose his temper so often, leading to him sounding very much like he did now. Such words had only gotten him a sharp scolding from the village elder, yet what effect did it have now on the Ice Queen?

"Hmph." Esdeth withdrew the sword, after a while. "Very well. I shall play along, 'Your Majesty'. It just so happens that, for the moment, our goals align. It has been so long since me and my men have been ordered on an offensive against the rebels. I trust there won't be any tiptoeing around with the campaign goals this time? Because if there is, then I'm heading back to Scapaia, no matter what you say."

"The other generals have the gist of the plan. This will be a full-out sweep of rebel lands, recapturing lost territories, and finally destroying the last rebel hideout at Tilandr. I leave it to them, and to you, in extension, as to how to best approach it, however. You're much smarter with these military things than I."

"At least you know your limits," the general mumbled to herself. With a flip of her long, waist-length hair, she turned around and skidded down the trail of ice she'd made behind her. "Don't disappoint me, young Emperor," she said as parting words, before leaping down the side of the ship.

"Whoa! This must be like a thousand feet high!" Ieyasu exclaimed. "Is she crazy?"

Tatsumi breathed out, feeling the tension in his body dissipate. He felt calmer now, for some reason, as if the talk with the most powerful warrior he'd ever encountered, who had saved him not that long ago from a Danger Beast, had finally cleared his head.

"Forget that," Sayo hissed. "Are _you_ crazy, Tatsumi? You talked that way to her? Don't you already know who she is?" Even in their remote village, rumors had easily come of the dreaded Ice Queen, who was said to be nigh unbeatable in battle. She was said to possess a Teigu so potent that she was able to wield its enormous power with utmost precision and power, and use it to annihilate the Empire's enemies. The "Ice Queen" was so laden with rumors and stories about her true nature that it had painted in Tatsumi the image of a cruel creature clad in a sheet made of ice, her cackles echoing into the darkness of the cold winter nights.

And then he had met her personally, and that had made him wonder which of the stories about her were jokes, and which were the truth. Because she was beautiful and statuesque, and he could hardly imagine her as a butcher of many battlefields.

Tatsumi shrugged. "And I'm the Emperor. One way or another you've got to make people toe the line. I learned a lot from gramps."

"Yeah, and the elder didn't need to deal with a General Esdeth in his life," Ieyasu said.

"Oh, I was scared, no doubt about that," Tatsumi said. He turned to regard the patches of solid ice she had left behind on the ship. It would no doubt be a big problem when the time came for the crew to clean up. "But it kind of helped when I just thought of her as not this big, scary woman who was a terror on the battlefield, but just like a normal person. A General." _I just thought of her as this beautiful woman,_ Tatsumi wanted to say next, but knew he'd be ridiculed by his friends for that. It was the truth as far as he was concerned, but they didn't need to know. Therefore, he settled for declaring, "But there are things I've got to do, _especially_ now that I'm Emperor. I can't let her drag me down."

The others fell silent, leaving him to his thoughts as he watched the view from the deck. Even General Abell had gone back inside the ship in order to start preparing his army for deployment. Only he and his friends were left, and the other two kept their own thoughts to themselves.

* * *

As the scout boat screamed towards its destination, the occupants listened raptly as Najenda spoke.

"We're lucky to have gotten this opportunity, so we shan't waste it."

"Shit. Who knew the Emperor himself would make it easy for us?" Lubbock asked.

"It still smells of a trap," Mine said. "But we've got to take a chance, like Najenda says."

"We've gotta hit him from all sides. Make sure he never has a chance to react, or do anything stupid. Let's end this Empire, once and for all."

"Hoo yeah!" Lubbock cried. "Time to kill an Emperor, guys!"

The rest cheered. As usual, only Akame remained silent, her ruby-red eyes glittering with fiery determination.

* * *

 **Thanks to a certain person, who was able to "encourage" me to continue this story. Thanks very much!**

 **I work with commissions generally, and so if you'd like a story commissioned, feel free to contact me here or on archiveofourown under "RHoldhous".**


	4. Chapter 4

It had been a long time since Tatsumi had slept outdoors. In the months leading up to Esdeth's surprise visit, which had utterly changed his life forever, there had been no major hunts that the village needed to pursue. These hunts required days of camping out in the bleak, snow-ridden wilderness surrounding their village.

Such conditions were harsh and unforgiving, but he thought it the measure of a true hunter if he could ignore all that and persist to see the hunt through to the end. Those were days of seeking caves first and foremost, then checking if they were inhabited currently by any predator. The challenge then became trying to find sleep on the icy-cold rocky floor, curled up over a small, sputtering fire while icy winds battered relentlessly outside.

If they could not find a cave, then it was a small burrow dug into the snow and reinforced by the Beastskin tents they all had to bring with them, where they were forced to sleep right next to snow, without a fire, while making sure never to leave any part of their bodies out of the sleeping cocoons. There would be an abrupt amputation otherwise, and a quick trip back to the village and be declared an invalid for the rest of their days.

That was not to say that Tatsumi was experiencing the exact same conditions as before. The Emperor was not allowed to sleep in bleak, harrowing conditions, after all.

At first, he had been given the option of his own palanquin, just as his predecessors had used before. It was the Great Imperial Palanquin, if one wanted to be technical, and was as large as his old house in the village. It had everything within it too, including enough space to field several retainers to prepare the food and clean it up. It was to be carried around by the Imperial bodyguards who had been currently reassigned here. This was also the sole reason why Tatsumi ultimately refused the arrangement. It was just so weird to live inside a cross between a tent and a house while being carried up on the shoulders of a dozen burly men. He couldn't imagine eating, let alone defecating there (and yes, there was even a small privy and bathtub provided for his needs).

When he told his refusal to General Abell, the one who was assigned to his security detail, the man had been dismayed, but had then given him an alternative. The ironside currently docked on the ground were available for him to commandeer, and he would thus be able to sleep up there.

"It would be also be quite safer than the Great Imperial Palanquin," the general explained, "As the security requirements for entry into the ships are quite steeper than down here in the camps. Any interlopers, if they exist, would be easily tracked and intercepted by our loyal marines."

But Tatsumi recalled how he and his friends turned bodyguards had tried to take a nap on the long air ride here, and how it had been virtually impossible with the cramped space and the way the ship moved and creaked and rumbled around them. Being forced to sleep there was a fate he left to his eager Admirals, and not something he'd seek out himself. With that, he made his decision and intentions clear to General Abell, who drew his eyebrows together and frowned thoughtfully.

"Very well, my lord. As you command: there is one other thing we have available. You may use a General's tent, which is something reserved for the Generals. I hesitated to suggest this, because its hardly a place appropriate for the Emperor to sleep in. Not even a bunch of pillows and cushions piled high can take away the strain of feeling the rigid, uneven ground beneath your spine, or of the way the night's chill yet somehow finds a way to creep through the closed blinds." The man's face twisted, as if the mere recollection of such facts left a foul impression. He continued, "It does not have the amenities of the Palanquin, my lord, which means it may not have a fire inside. It shall be a quite bothersome experience for you, and that is why I do not recommend it."

"But that actually sounds decent enough!" Tatsumi had nonetheless proclaimed, and there the matter was left. One did not argue needlessly with the Emperor, and Tatsumi was secretly glad for once to have the last word when it came to decisions he really wanted. A large general's tent was therefore set up, within one of the more populated camps currently established outside Folkis. Surrounding it were many of the bodyguards' own tents, along with Ieyasu's and Sayo's. A full complement of guards were posted on high alert every hour of the night, helped by the many sentries that were hiding in plain sight all throughout the camp.

After receiving the initial briefing from an assembly including Generals Esdeth and Abell along with some senior officers from both armies that were present, Tatsumi and his friends ate an early supper at his tent, before the two were gently reminded to leave when it was time for Tatsumi to sleep. Apparently, it was tradition and necessity for the Emperor to sleep alone—or if he insisted on having company, then the guards were duty-bound to strip him or her of all clothing, and have at least two guards inside to watch.

The ridiculous rules were said to extend even to any wives or lovers Tatsumi may have in the future—an Emperor's consort or personal mistress was expected to sleep in a separate place while the Emperor was outside the Palace. As General Abell patiently explained to Tatsumi—who was desperately trying not to blush—if Tatsumi desired to have female company to comfort him, he was to complete their "business" and then afterward send the woman away, or otherwise the guards were tasked to send two of their number inside to watch the couple sleep. And it didn't matter if the Emperor found offense and killed off the two: more guards would come in, suffering their master's wrath, even until all of them were dead.

"Of course, such an impulsive Emperor would be seen as weak and unworthy of the tenets the First Emperor passed down—such as it is, it has led more than one Emperor to be swiftly displaced during a civil war… I'm sure you understand, my lord," General Abell explained.

"Oh yes, yes, I do understand," Tatsumi said quickly, his heart pounding at the implication of having sex with a woman—particularly as Sayo was also present, listening to the same explanation. He didn't dare turn to talk to her then. He didn't even bring it up later, when they had supper.

The experience of sleeping inside this new "general's tent" wasn't quite the same as roughing it in the snowy woods during a Hunt. Contrary to General Abell's claim, the cushions were still fluffy enough that only people unused to sleeping on the rocky ground would find it inadequate. And the space was wide enough that he could stretch his whole body and still have more than enough left over, unlike the usual cramped conditions of their usual tents. And the heat, of course, was better here than in the basic Beast-hide he was used to—there was probably some high-quality material used in the tent that adequately trapped the heat generated by the torches during supper. It wasn't quite warm, but it also wasn't as cold as the General had claimed, too.

All in all, this first night on the campaign road hadn't been anything noteworthy. The nerve-wracked Tatsumi was able to settle down and catch a few winks after straining to hear above the raucous sounds of his army outside for the tell-tale sounds of battle.

He awoke, the next morning, to the muffled sounds of an argument coming from outside the tent. Curious to know what all the hubbub was about, Tatsumi took his sword from its rest and tucked it inside his bathrobe, then proceeded to open the flap of his tent without bothering to freshen himself up.

He saw his imperial guards standing in close formation, acting as a makeshift wall as they all faced down Ieyasu, who was staring bewildered at them from the other side.

"… bodyguard like you! Are you trying to tell me that shit doesn't even count?" he was saying incredulously.

"Regardless of your status, sir Ieyasu, the official roster bodyguards has regrettably not included either yourself nor lady Sayo," one of the guards replied.

"What's going on?" Tatsumi asked. As he spoke, the ring of armed guards immediately moved to face him, their bodies acting in unison like a well-oiled machine. "Hail, Emperor!" They all cried, stamping the butts of their weapon to the ground.

"Oh, morning, Tatsumi," Ieyasu greeted, in comparison quite a bit more normally. "Nice to see you up and about. Why don't you go tell off these guys for me."

"Why?" Tatsumi asked. "What happened?"

"They told me they wouldn't let anyone inside the tent. Couldn't even try and holler to see if you were awake!"

 _You shouldn't even be doing that!_ Tatsumi wanted to say, but he knew the guards would just interpret that differently and therefore never ever allow Ieyasu within.

"And we informed sir Ieyasu that no one, not even the guards, may be allowed to enter the Emperor's tent, not even to wake our lord, unless there is an emergency in the camp that requires his wakening. That is our responsibility as his bodyguards," explained one of the armored fellows.

"But aren't I already one of you?" said Ieyasu. "That General Budo signed off on it and everything."

"That is precisely the reason," repeated the guard. " _No one_ may enter the Emperor's tent, for whatever reason, unless there is an emergency. Not even a bodyguard like you, sir."

"Well that's definitely weird," Ieyasu said with a frown. "How would you be able to know if, like, Tatsumi had already been killed the night before, and you wouldn't even know it?"

The guards shifted in their boots, glancing at each other uneasily as if the question had triggered something unpleasant. Tatsumi could tell his friend had struck a nerve, and though he would always support his best friend above all, he was also loathe to antagonize his guards.

"What the heck are you talking about?" Tatsumi asked drily. "You implying something, punk?"

"Huh?" Ieyasu uttered, eyes widening. Perhaps he was surprised Tatsumi had returned to speaking as if they were at the village.

"Anyway, sorry man, but I'm gonna have to say thanks to these folks here for stopping you," Tatsumi continued. "I _do_ prefer my beauty sleep to being rudely awakened." Not that that had stopped his being awakened by Ieyasu coming and arguing about it, but Tatsumi wasn't going to mention _that_.

"I wasn't gonna wake you up!" Ieyasu said.

"Yeah, yeah," Tatsumi said, waving, hoping his friend would take the hint and just shut up already. He turned to look at his nearest guard. "Listen, I'm gonna go in and change, and then I'll be ready for breakfast, clear?"

"Yes, my lord!" the man replied, banging his gauntlet on his armor in salute. "I shall inform the staff that breakfast will be readied."

"By the way, where's Sayo?"

Ieyasu shrugged sheepishly. "…She didn't want to go along with a prank."

"I _knew_ it!" Tatsumi cried, before retreating back inside his tent.

* * *

With Tatsumi up and about, his guards no longer had any qualms allowing either Ieyasu or Sayo to join him at breakfast. After all, one of the guards was already at Tatsumi's back, standing there at all times while the entrance to his tent flaps were flanked by more of them. Tatsumi also knew, with the instinct experienced fighters developed, that more of them were positioned in a perimeter all around his tent.

After Tatsumi was done freshening up, the servants had then been given permission to clean up his quarters and ready him for breakfast. They laid the food out for three people, as he'd requested, on the large mat that had replaced his sleeping cushions. Then Sayo and Ieyasu arrived, and they exchanged their customary morning pleasantries. Then the servants came back and laid out the meals, which were fresh and hot from the fire. They were served white bread crusted perfectly on the outside, a slab of honeycomb mired in sweet honey, many strips of sizzling bacon, several slices of hot eel pie, chopped pieces of creamy stewed pheasant, a large bowl filled with succulent vegetables and juicy fruits, several jars of both hot and cool milk, and a large pot of tea.

All told, his servants informed him that the food had been sourced from the four corners of the Empire, as per Prime Minister Honest's request, to "show the Emperor the wealth of his vast dominion". Personally, Tatsumi was just grateful for the variety of food available. The three of them were used to dried venison and crumbly biscuits, the usual fare for hunters on the prowl. Inside the village, everyone shared from a large pot of soup or stewed animal that had been hunted that day. On special occasions, there was roast, which usually meant a bounty of supplies.

"I knew he was up to something funny," Sayo remarked while frowning at their friend. "Had to give him a sock in the eye because he just barged inside my tent without even announcing himself. Gods above, have you no decency?"

Looking closer, Tatsumi could see Ieyasu _did_ have a bruise over his eye. He flinched to imagine Sayo doing that, as she had one of the most powerful set of arms in the whole village. She routinely dominated arm-wrestling contests, especially when neither the elder nor a few of the veteran hunters participated.

"I don't mind the prank myself, man," Tatsumi said while picking at some eggs. "But I'm the Emperor now, and they expect some stuff from me that's way different than normal people. And I have to act the part, too."

"So… I get it. No more pranks."

Tatsumi shrugged. "At the very least, not one that'll have someone incorrectly identify you as an assassin or something and get you killed." Ieyasu understandably blanched when he glanced at the guard standing right behind Tatsumi.

"Well, alright, I'll watch myself. I was just getting kind of antsy back there. I mean, we're gonna be watching a battle and shit. With the fucking Ice Queen out there, too!"

They stared at him. "The… Ice Queen?" Tatsumi asked. "You're keen on _her,_ Ieyasu? Why?"

"Well, you've heard the stories, right?" he said, as he drank more hot tea. "It's one thing to hear them, it's another to see them in person."

After a short silence, Sayo said, "It's a battle, Ieyasu. There's nothing interesting to see about it, except maybe seeing the blood flying."

"Well, why not? We're all used to it."

"I recall you puked when you had to carry Vasli's torn arm all the way back to the village."

Ieyasu's face turned green and he gagged. "Ugh…" The case of Vasli, who had been a veteran hunter in the village, served to keep reminding Tatsumi and his friends of the seriousness of having to fight Danger Beasts. One thing to always remember was that one did not fight them alone, unless they preferred to have their body torn apart and spread all over the forest for the villagers to have to gather. Tatsumi had carried his share of spilled offal in a rag, and had endured much the same reaction as Ieyasu in response to all the torn flesh and the reeking blood.

Thankfully, they were able to stave off discussing the bleak subject further when a messenger from General Abell arrived.

"He wishes to inform Your Majesty that the meeting shall be commencing after the troops' mess. That will be an hour from now."

"Okay," Tatsumi said. Thinking that sounded not too Emperor-like, he said, "Thank you for that, soldier."

"Er… I'm not a soldier, sir. I'm just a retainer to General Abell," the man replied, bowing. "Noncombatant."

"Oh, okay. Well, good work nonetheless." If he was a noncombatant then Tatsumi was the ultimate noncombatant. He could fight, and wanted to fight, but logic and all his advisors told him that he should remain out of it.

"Are we even allowed in the meeting?" Sayo asked.

"Why not?" Tatsumi said. "You're my bodyguards now. Though, I know Esdeth will be there, so please try not to anger her guys."

* * *

The Imperial banner was clear to see from here. So were the number of troops they had brought, which was represented in the thousands of tents that filled the horizon. That was not to mention the great, looming flying ships that, for the moment, were "docked" on the ground, which still made a considerable impression on everyone's mind.

It seemed the Emperor was indeed aiming for conquest. It was hard to misread the situation, as one did not bring live steel to a training spar, or just to talk. One _did_ bring an army of that size to conquer, and none of the Revolutionary Army, nor the people of Folkis, would interpret it in any other way.

They had all taken turns spying on the camp from afar with their binoculars, as if they were eager to find a suitable ingress. But the camp was solid and formidable, as was usually the case for an army under General Esdeth's command. Therefore the only thing the members of Night Raid saw through the binoculars was the sheer implacable might of the Empire, which reignited in them the passion of rebellion that had led them to this point.

Upon their arrival at Folkis, their leader Najenda had immediately left to discuss matters with the local leadership. They had expected their contact in the Empire to have to fabricate an opportunity to draw the Emperor out of his fortified city. This was good fortune to have the Emperor sally forth personally. Of course, this came with a very dangerous factor coming into play: namely the presence of the brutal Ice Queen and her armies.

She was another high priority target for Night Raid. However, all viable plans against her remained squarely in the realm of impossibility. Standard methods of assassination were impossible with the many layers of insulation that protected the General from infiltration, while the woman herself was possessed of a keen danger sense that would detect a hidden blade or poison in the drink. Further, none of them had the raw power nor the tenacious skill to combat the Ice Queen openly, even at her worst, and to their memory she was never at her worst. Even the best of them, Akame, had admitted out loud that her skills could only suffice to delay Esdeth for a time. The only strategy Najenda had involved a full-on assault by all the Teigu-bearing users of the Revolutionary Army, and even that alone was just a fanciful scenario that had no realistic basis, nor plausible outcome.

Part of the reason for Najenda's disappearance, therefore, was to confer with the other leaders present to try and figure out a plan to deal specifically with Esdeth's presence. They'd already had a working plan, ever since they'd received the news from their contact, on how they would assassinate the Emperor. Esdeth may well ruin those ambitions, but they were determined to strike now that the opportunity had presented itself.

They were also concerned about the city of Folkis itself, particularly its people. They could sense it in the air, even as they walked down its streets or observed its people. For so long they had been free men and women, allowed to do whatever they wanted under the benevolent guidance of their courageous mayor, who'd risked his own life to defy the Imperial throne at a time when it would have cost him his head. And yet now, because of his efforts, the people of Folkis were able to live without fear of oppression, without being forced to provide exorbitant tribute to Honest's greedy hands, or being forced to join the Imperial army without any questions asked.

Night Raid whispered among themselves that the Army was just as likely to give up Folkis if it was needed. There hadn't been any serious fortifications of the area, given its close proximity to Imperial lands without any natural areas of terrain surrounding it that blocked or hindered the free movement of armies. Therefore, it was difficult to reinforce, especially on a shoestring budget.

Its status as an outpost, a major one at that, would mean a severe blow to their efforts if it was lost. This soon after the termination of the Buruskai outpost meant that things would become that much harder for the Resistance to retain their reach on the Empire's crucial fringes.

It was therefore imperative that they succeed. Even if it would mean wholly sacrificing themselves so that another may have the chance, or even sacrificing others just to seize the opportunity personally, every member of Night Raid was determined to see things through to the bitter, bloody end.

Najenda returned in the early morning, right before dawn. Her news was grim, as expected, but that didn't mean it was entirely without hope.

"Tilandr will not send reinforcements," she said. "They suspect Esdeth's presence here to be a feint, of sorts. They will not commit their forces to a drawn-out battle with her present, even if we do end up succeeding."

"That's crazy!" Lubbock exclaimed. "If we succeed here, then Esdeth or the other generals won't have a leg to stand on! It's the best time to take them all out, because they'd be all demoralized and shit."

"Or conversely, we'd have an army right at the doorstep of Folkis, an army that's gone 'rogue', in a sense. What's to stop them from venting their anger, or even worse, their bloodlust on the poor citizens?" Chelsea said next. "You've seen her armies firsthand. You know what lengths _she_ allows them. The army _must_ be here to reinforce them."

"We're all aware of that, but understand that we are at an impasse," Najenda said firmly. "Luck willing, we shall succeed in our plans and the Empire shall end before the week is out. And _that_ is the only thing we can focus on, in order that it _will_ become the future we have always sought. We cannot afford to think of what may come after, whether it's dealing with Esdeth or Honest or whoever it is who need to die. Our target is here, in Folkis, a chance well beyond all our hopes. So mark my words, I do not like the plans any more than you do, but I understand the weight, and the logic of it. Night Raid has a job to do. Now the matter remains: are you still willing to carry this through?"

She looked around, and though some of them looked like they wanted to protest, no one spoke up this time. "Good," she said. "I knew I could count on you all."

"What is the plan of attack?" Akame asked.

"We've just received word from our contact," Najenda said. "He's here, in the city, as we guessed. Unfortunately, his identity's on a need-to-know basis for now. But he has floated an idea that was interesting to the higher-ups, and to me as well." They all followed Najenda's pensive gaze towards Chelsea, who tilted her head in confusion.

"It appears we need to use Kanai's Cube, after all."

* * *

It felt silly standing there, in full view of all the soldiers down below, but he knew he had to do it. He felt that he hadn't needed General Abell's constant prodding to accept the task of standing on an elevated platform to watch over his assembled armies. He felt like he owed it to them somehow—as he would soon be sending them to their possible deaths, all for his sake.

Traditionally, the governors levied able-bodied men and women from each of the cities under their rule to join the ranks of the Imperial Army every three years. These conscripts started at the lowest level, and thus were "fodder and chaff", as General Abell put it bluntly, to be pointed enmasse in the direction of an enemy force. During times when the Army was not campaigning, these low-level troops were charged with menial tasks around the camp, doing work that they were used to from before they had been drafted like cooking, cleaning and occasionally the "comfort" of the higher ranks.

It was during this stage that much of these recruits were methodically chiseled away through death or desertion, until three years had passed since their recruitment. When that time came, they either consented to be permanently branded as "loyal" then freed from their duties, or were promoted into regulars, the next rank. As Tatsumi understood it, the "loyal" brands were a form of death sentence, something he had heard about when he was still in the village. It meant that someone had refused the offer of serving the Emperor, and was therefore treated as cowardly. Therefore it meant a harder time seeking employment from those who did not wish to associate with those branded by taboo. Even Tatsumi had thought of "loyals" as such, thinking they must have done something bad to be treated in such a way; it was only now that he learned that the brand was ironically supposed to congratulate a citizen for enduring service in the Emperor's name.

The regular soldiers weren't paid that much higher than conscripts. But at this stage they were accorded the chance to partake in the gathering of loot. When lands were conquered or rebels crushed, any loot an army seized through pillaging would be gathered up in a pile. The general and the other high-ranking officers snagged their share for however much they wanted, but tradition dictated that they leave a decent amount for their men, or they'd end up a "decently" laid corpse on the next morning. Loot therefore was a regular's primary way to supplement their pay, and was also the source of much of the attrition in the ranks. Over time, regulars, who were usually skirmishers, shock troops or backup to reinforce the main conscript army, often would die from being stabbed in the back for their treasure box than from battle.

Ascension for regulars followed several routes. If one had demonstrated a good enough thinking brain, the Imperial Navy was always ready to recruit more to crew their ships. The Navy had a separate culture entirely, where promotion relied entirely on one's desire to learn more about the workings of an airship, and some may even become pilots of the smaller escort ships. The hopeless cases were either kept forever as marines in _Castellum_ -classes or sent back down to be a regular in an army.

Else, regulars could join the Cannoneer Corps, the replacement for the Knightly Orders when horses and therefore cavalry became outdated. These brave soldiers learned to master the cantankerous mobile cannons that were individually like replicas of the ironsides' great cannons, only fitted with a generally unstable and cheap version of the batteries used for normal horseless carriages. These batteries were essential to lugging around the large, box-like vehicle containing the cannon itself and all its ammunition, the cannon loading crew and the vehicle operators themselves. However, these batteries also carried a much greater risk of imploding, as no one in the Empire had yet to figure out a way to miniaturize the ironsides' great batteries without sacrificing performance. Being a cannoneer therefore was a frightful, dangerous career with few benefits, and was therefore reserved for those bloodthirsty individuals who longed to smash enemies and fortifications into pieces.

Lastly, a regular could hope to begin his or her ascent into the ranks of General. This usually meant being assigned the rank of sergeant, tasked with keeping discipline and maintaining order over the poorly-trained masses of conscripts, some of whom might take grave offense at being ordered around. If they prospered enough, they became captains of their own bands of regulars, where their tasks turned to reigning in the various quarrelsome personalities and trying to prevent the regulars from eating themselves from the inside out just for the sake of treasure. If they survived even that, while also surviving the many harrowing, near-death events that a soldier was expected to face in the Emperor's armies, then they needed to contend with fellow officers, who might share the same ambition. They soon became part of a hierarchy no less cutthroat than the regular ranks they had left. Only fierce martial skill, brilliant cunning or sheer dumb luck saw these souls ascend to become Generals.

Although Tatsumi had learned all that with great patience, that still didn't change the fact that looking out at all of the soldiers gathered below him, he was only able to see line after line of uniformed, faceless people. People he didn't know, and wouldn't even be able to know, without devoting his time to learning them. In the village he knew every one of his fellow hunters, because one could not entrust one's life to people they did not know. Yet here he was, expecting these people to go out and die for him, and he wouldn't even recall all their names. It sparked a feeling in Tatsumi that he honestly hadn't felt before.

"Tatsumi? Oi, Emperor, are you there?"

"Wai—huh?" He blinked, suddenly stirred by Ieyasu's voice. He turned towards his friend, who was waving a hand before his eyes.

"Oi, you alright? We've been trying to get your attention for like, a while. Something on your mind?"

"No, it's nothing," he said hastily. He looked around. "Was there something…?"

"Oh, right. A messenger came, said the meeting was about to start. Also said the Emperor could come at his leisure."

Tatsumi sighed. Although that did mean that he could wait for however long he needed and the people at the meeting had no choice but to shut up and wait for him before starting, he knew he couldn't just do that. Common courtesy, and the need to appear as dignified an Emperor as he can, meant he had to go.

He looked back down at the marching troops for one last time. "Yeah. Let's go."

* * *

The moment would be marked for eras yet to come as the most seminal of Tatsumi's reign. In the greater scheme of things, it was an insignificant event—just a military meeting involving the most recent campaign initiated by the new Emperor, Tatsumi. Yet the consequences of this meeting continued to reverberate far into the future, when Tatsumi's descendants would become as numerous as the stars in the sky.

At stake was the city of Folkis, and to a greater extent, the territories of the Revolutionary Army, whom the Emperor had finally decided to eliminate in a grand campaign, all to serve the vision of his rule. Therefore, two armies and a fleet had been sent as a vanguard force: General Abell was head of the Emperor's escort, General Esdeth was leader of the main force, and Admiral Kyuson watched over the ironside that had brought Abell and the Emperor here.

None of the people who had initially arrived at the meeting tent had no idea of the provenance of the events that were to come. In one corner was Admiral Kyuson, a lean, mustachioed, middle-aged man with sunburnt skin, nursing a cup of coffee to wipe away the stupor of the previous night. Beside him were two female officers, whose names would be lost to time.

Recently arrived in the tent was General Abell, the portly General who had been so helpful to his Master. His large bulk almost made him look comical in his general's uniform and the many medals and lapels he wore, were it not for the quiet, weasel-like cunning that flashed through his eyes from time to time as he surveyed his surroundings. Flanking him were his captains Yoran and Quenid, both gloomy-looking men who were as fragile twigs besides their superior's superior size.

General Esdeth arrived next, accompanied with a fantastic blast of cold wind that battered the tent. She marched proud and tall, her figure statuesque, her cold unfeeling gaze sweeping over the gathered soldiers with the energy and surety of a predator wetting its snout in the watering hole. None present dared challenge her gaze.

The only subordinate she brought was one who might be considered the biggest elephant in the room, for he was as infamous as his mistress among those present. It was not in any way remarkable, though: this was the disgraced former General River, once a brilliant general in the Empire's service. Near the end of the succession war, he had been involved in a scandal where his rank and accomplishments were rubbed out, and he was sentenced to rot for all eternity in a forgotten prison. Still, he managed to claw out of that darkness, though he had transformed into something entirely different. He had then seemingly offered his unique experience and military insight to Esdeth's cause, and had been definitively transformed into a loyal dog of his former peer. They kept such mockeries to themselves, as the man yet possessed his own Teigu, and also, who knew how the mistress would react to its dog being insulted besides that? Better to treat Liver like he was just another subordinate.

The wolves were thus gathered, each trusting no one other, each disdainful of the others, in their own way. Yes, even the great Ice Queen was looked askance by both Abell and Kyuson, each prejudiced in their own ways of one whom they perceived to be a wild, uncontrollable predator that should be put down at the earliest convenience. And of course, the less said of Esdeth's open contempt for her peers, the better.

Such was the situation inside the tent when fate thus decreed Tatsumi's entrance: he who was the final architect of this momentous event.

The Emperor was unassuming at first glance in his military suit, his size easily dwarfed by both Abell in terms of girth and Esdeth in height. And yet in that brief moment those inside saw a being swathed in a cloak of darkness, vengeful and silent. It was like a shadow playing behind him, snarling at those who stared with monstrous, twisted shapes flickering in and out of focus, all from the cover of a young and guileless man.

It was later generally agreed that this impression very likely stemmed from the Teigu the Emperor had first chosen. Yet there were those who disagreed, and thought this was but a portent of all that would stem from this young man's cloak. For however much many would claim that destiny was the provenance of the gods, it was also just as easily said that greatness inevitably stemmed from the truly great. Though the Emperor would not realize it, his every action from here on would dictate the fate of millions of people living, and those yet unborn.

Regardless, the moment passed, and the Emperor greeted his generals, before approaching the table upon which their battle plans had been laid out. The moment passed; and there they all stood now, on the cusp of history.

* * *

"Good morning," Tatsumi said, his tone light, but authoritative. "I hope everyone is ready?"

"Aye, my lord," Admiral Kyuson was quick to answer first. "Cheerful day for a spot of massacre, aye?"

"Admiral, please," General Abell said, as if exasperated. He tapped on the maps laid out on the table. "My lord…"

"Please do not misunderstand," Tatsumi said, looking to each of his generals one after the other. "By my command, there shall be no massacres today—at least, not of those who do not fight. Spare those who lay down their arms, I say, and let those who lived by the sword die by it."

"That is naïve," Esdeth cut in ruthlessly. "Boy, this is war. There is no need to walk softly. Should it be their time to pass, then let them all die, choking on your Imperial vengeance. You will not stifle me and my men by issuing orders of mercy like that."

Tatsumi shook his head vehemently. "I give you leave to kill however you wish, General Esdeth, especially those who have long raised their arms in rebellion against the Empire. But leave the citizens for the Empire to absorb, to be once more placed under our protection."

"That is the thinking of the weak."

"Those weak citizens shall be my strength!" Tatsumi cried, slamming his small pointing stick on the table. "When peacetime comes and they all return to the correct thinking of serving the Empire, I assure you they will be encouraged to work to the bone, and if they will not be encouraged then they will be forced. They will feed my soldiers, feed my war, and ultimately feed _our_ Empire, and I will not let you or anyone else undermine my strength, General! Spare my workers, or spare me your presence in my army."

A large, almost palpable emotion seemed to coalesce between the two: Emperor and General. Though Esdeth's face showed no emotion, those who knew her best, like Liver, recognized the tempest that brewed inside this tent, with his mistress at the very center of it all. And yet, though her gaze could pierce the hearts of the stoutest mercenary and leave them a blubbering wreck, the Emperor stared back, his anger hot and obvious but no less diminished. Indeed, _something_ seemed to arise from behind the Emperor, an indistinct, flickering shadow that seemed to sense the brewing conflict, and somehow reveled in it.

Though Tatsumi had a healthy fear of Esdeth, and respected her skills as a general, he nonetheless stood firm. For Tatsumi had a much greater fear: to upset the order imposed by the Judgments laid down by his predecessors. Enough had been lost, and much had been disrupted, since the dawn of the Revolutionary Army, that he knew it would not take long for the whole foundation to collapse under the slightest pressure. Order had to be maintained, cities wrestled from rebellious influence, and rebellion itself muzzled, so that the Empire Tatsumi had inherited wouldn't fall down around him, with his name forever etched as the architect of the demise of so great an institution.

It was then that General Abell cleared his throat, breaking the tense silence. "… It is my pleasure to report that the supply route has been finalized just over an hour ago. We have received word from the Governors assuring us that the schedule will be followed to the letter."

"Good," Tatsumi said, without breaking eye contact with Esdeth. Her stare was frigid and piercing, and it was getting harder and harder not to blink, but he was determined not to look away.

"There is the matter of maintaining a link… in Folkis directly. Reports indicate that the rebellious mayor _is_ still doing his part ruling this city in the name of the rebellion… Should we be sparing him, then my lord?"

Folkis had become unique in that several of its bordering towns were far enough geographically from it to form a technical sort of barrier when it came to a military standpoint. It just so happened, then, that the cities they would need to capture after Folkis were also far enough away from any other town that _Folkis itself_ was vital as a crossroads to keeping a supply train going. When Ieyasu had asked over breakfast how it would be easier to just use the airships to go around, Tatsumi had found himself giving a lecture on why that was a stupid, wasteful thing to do, what with all the ether they would have to consume. Smaller, even horse-drawn caravans would have to do.

To conclude then, Folkis' economic value to Tatsumi was great, and its strategic value even more so. Whether or not the rebels realized this would perhaps be crucial to their reaction to Tatsumi's intended campaign from here on.

Tatsumi clucked his tongue. "The mayor will be imprisoned to await Imperial justice," he said. "The Empire will then occupy the city temporarily until the mines can be made to work."

"Ah… speaking of the mines, my lord…" Abell continued.

Tatsumi's first and primary directive was the recapture of Folkis and its many lucrative mines that were scattered all around the hills. He would have preferred that the city surrender of their own free will, as it would lead to less bloodshed. With that, they would be able to start working in the newly liberated mines for his benefit, while the campaign continued in an orderly manner. He had hoped for their surrender from the beginning, right when he'd boarded the ironside that took him here.

Reality, however, proved to frustrate his desires. Surrender seemed far from the city's mind, as General Abell had been quick to report before he'd gone to sleep last night.

"Our spies have reported that the general mood of the city continues to be highly defiant, my lord. They seemed to believe in their heads that they would be able to withstand the Empire's assault no matter what. They seemed to have placed their ultimate faith in these rebels whom they continue to support."

"If they're that confident," Tatsumi had said. "Then surely there must be a reason."

"Yes, we had been thinking about that as well. Impossible though it may sound, perhaps the rebels have concocted some secret counter-measure, some stratagem that would ensure their superiority. It is either that, or it is merely false bravado on their parts, my lord. In any case, your army is ready to serve."

Returning to the matter of the mines, Esdeth's scouts had reported sightings of a major rebel presence that now swarmed all over the hills upon spotting the General's arrival. This meant that not only were the mines littered with rebels, there was an even greater chance that they had manipulated the area to their advantage, such as constructing elaborate tunnel networks or secret caverns hidden behind false doors.

This thus led to a situation where capturing the mines and defeating every last remnant of the rebel presence there would most likely take some time, and would thus delay the campaign. And if what the General surmised in the previous night was true, then perhaps they were also hiding some sort of secret weapon inside those tunnels, which would explain Folkis' general confidence in spite of great odds.

"...They have been unable to confirm any rumors of secret weapons hidden in those mines," General Abell said, in the present. "Only that there _are_ rebels present there."

By this point, Esdeth's ire towards him seemed to have faded, as she went to stand before the table without saying another word to Tatsumi. Instinct told him that he was far from safe from her reprisal, however he was willing to take whatever small victories or draws he could get away with. It would at least help him focus on the really important things.

"I suppose the rebels have still got their ridiculous 'canisters' lining up the place?" Admiral Kyuson said.

"It was the first thing we saw when we got here," Esdeth said in grumbling voice. "The cowards."

"Why dintcha throw your men into that explosive grind eh? Clear a path for the Emperor?"

"I refuse to commit my men to an ignoble end. Scattered to pieces by traps laid so obviously on the ground." Esdeth shook her head violently. "It is no way to die."

"Ah, but you would not object if they _did_ die from stepping on an invisible mine down in the labyrinth, aye?"

"Of course," Esdeth replied, with a scoff, as if there were no other possible answer.

"Currently, we have estimated that the area that is littered with the mines to be around this size," one of the unnamed retainers said, pointing to a red smear on a section of the map.

"That's at least a two mile strip," Esdeth remarked.

Admiral Kyuson whistled. "With that amount of mines jammed into place, I wonder why those folks didn't pay for barrels of wine instead of gunpowder instead. That can't have been cheap."

Abell frowned. "We may be dealing with a 'Numanis', General. did your soldiers…?"

"They tried at random, using arrows," Esdeth cut in quickly. "They're most definitely real. And most definitely explosive."

Tatsumi looked between the two of them. "What's a Numanis?" he asked.

"It's shorthand for a deception tactic," Abell explained. "It's used to describe a change in the presence of anything on the battlefield so as to make it appear as any other. For instance, those mines they laid out here may just _look_ like mines on the outside, even if they're really just empty barrels. If a foe is successfully fooled and changes his plans because of it, then the tactic has worked."

"Oh, so it's like a sort of camouflage then?" Certain Danger Beasts were able to disguise themselves sometimes, usually as a tree or a particularly shaped snowdrift. "Hum… So is there no way to clear them out?"

The three military-minded people in the room shook their heads. "It is never feasible to clear out a placed field; we leave that clean-up to the citizens," Abell said. "It costs us time, a most important thing we cannot give to the enemy."

"And all the while it gives _them_ the initiative in the field," Esdeth said. She gestured to a spot behind the city, in the middle of the hills said to be harboring hostile rebels. "If we commit to methodically clearing out the field, that gives them more time to organize a strike, maybe even several. Thus, it forces us to forsake approaching the city from the front and instead commit to assaulting their tunnel networks here and methodically clearing them out."

Tatsumi found himself frowning. While technically the soldiers of his armies were expected to die gloriously in service of him, Tatsumi still found it distasteful to have so many men die for his sake like that. Especially since the conscripts were to be the ones to navigate the hills and explore the tunnels first, when it came to it.

"We could try the aerial option."

"Oh right." All eyes went to the Admiral, who raised his hands and shrugged.

"It's certainly doable," he rumbled. "It'll cost some precious ether, true, but it will help occupy the city better if we just send in troops from the sky." Tatsumi's ear pricked at the mere mention of ether being wasted. Over time he had become quite sensitive to ether being mentioned in his earshot, particularly since it usually involved _using_ the precious ether. More often than not, it ended up making him think of the relative cost of the ether wasted in terms of gold and goods of comparative value. Just the thought of fueling all that mobile artillery stationed outside made him queasy. "Of course, we also have another option entirely…" The man glanced at Esdeth.

"That is certainly an option," Abell rumbled. "However, I do not think General Esdeth would like that."

"Like what?" Tatsumi asked.

"It would be child's play for me to freeze the whole field, allowing our soldiers to pass through without triggering the mines," Esdeth explained. "But that would defeat the purpose of bringing an army here. You may as well order _me_ to wage war on the city all by myself. Would you… want that, 'my lord'?" Her elegant face turned to face him. "Save the lives of the soldiers by ordering me to be your attack dog?"

Tatsumi actually made to look as if he was considering it. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, and took long enough that the other people in the tent suddenly had a deep sense of foreboding. Though Esdeth's expression never changed, it was clear that something fierce was going to pounce soon.

However, the moment quickly passed, as Tatsumi sighed and shook his head. "That won't do. I don't know you much, General, except all that I've heard about you. And while I consider that enough to give you a healthy amount of respect, (and praise besides, because you're working for the Empire's benefit after all) it's still not enough for me to consider you as something invincible. Something out there may end up doing you in, after all, and where would that leave me?"

"That's true," Esdeth said slowly after a long pause. "There may be something out there."

"However, the fact that we can freeze that field is definitely an asset we cannot ignore. May I ask you to do that?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "That would invalidate this whole battle, Emperor."

"But is it not a dishonorable tactic? You said that yourself, I heard you," Tatsumi then raised a finger. "And also, who's to say that's the whole extent of the rebels' preparations? What if they've booby trapped the city once you got in? Well now, wouldn't that still work for you?" Tatsumi clenched his fists. He still felt bad for having to sacrifice so many soldiers like that. "Plus, even with the city itself in our grasp, there's still those tunnels to clear out. I need—the _Empire_ needs those mines. As soon as possible."

"… The Emperor speaks rightly, General," Abell said, a bit hesitantly. "With this tactic we can secure the city on this day, which will allow us to fortify it ourselves, and use it as another staging ground for the next phase, which is to take the hills."

Tatsumi was grateful for General Abell's assistance.

Esdeth sighed. "Oh, very well. It is a workable plan, on the outside. Rest assured, I will also _make sure_ the inhabitants of that city come to no harm, unless they fight me first."

"Cause no massacres, I pray," Tatsumi repeated. "Leave my workers alone."

She snorted. "And, I repeat, this is war, Emperor. And we are Generals, made to wage war. Bloodshed cannot be wholesale avoided."

"I must also agree with the General, my lord," Abell said, in a surprising turn. "Hesitation in the field can only get you killed. Mercy is, as General Esdeth says, for the weak."

"I know that full well," Tatsumi rejoined. In hunting Danger Beasts, after all, the slightest misstep could be instant death. "That being said, I am placing my trust wholly in your discretion. We are not all beasts, slavering for blood. At the least, I don't expect my generals to be that way."

A long silence followed, during which none of the generals said anything. Esdeth shrugged to herself, while Abell had an inscrutable look on his face. Finally, it was Kyuson who said, "Well, with that settled, how do we set about capturing the tunnels? High chance for them to be even more booby-trapped, or lined with more hidey holes for the rebels than we care to count. Then where does that leave our campaign?"

Tatsumi glanced at Abell. Though technically Tatsumi would be the one calling the shots, he had already professed to being unused to military matters during the meeting at the Capital. Therefore Abell was tasked to head the strategic course of the campaign, insofar as he would be the one to point where Esdeth was to go, and of how the ultimate campaign against the rebellion would be prosecuted.

"My army will stay behind," Abell said. "And root out the rebels. Because the city will have been secured, however, we can already start using it as a base of operations, regardless of the continuing operations. If we need help, reinforcements from the Capital will also be coming on the next week, which will 'start the snowball rolling', so to speak. As such, if there shall be no problems with capturing the city today, we can start sending General Esdeth towards the mountain fortress at Tabang." The general pointed to a red dot close to a picture of a forest. "It is the least tactically defensive fortress, but it is a key to link up with Governor Imisol to the west to open up a second supply chain."

"So wait, does that mean I'm going to stay behind?" Tatsumi asked.

Abell looked surprised. "Why, yes, my lord. We shall have to take over the offices here, until the Governor can assign a new mayor. Even then, we'd still need to be here… Hrmm…" The man faltered at the look on Tatsumi's face. "…Well, I'm sure we can arrange for someone else to take over your escort duties, my lord."

"What's this? You want to get in on the action that badly, Emperor?" Esdeth asked. "Is it your desire to lead from the front?"

"Not in that way," Tatsumi said, a little defensively. "I just want to have a more… personal hand with all this."

"General, if the Emperor wishes it be so, then let it be," Abell said. "We shall certainly endeavor to acquiesce to your request, my lord. I can have word sent to the Capital that a new strategic head for this campaign be found, so that I may lead an army in your name while escorting you. Do bear in mind we may need an Admiral or two, like Admiral Kyuson here, to help protect you, so it will mean several resources diverted from the campaign… but I am sure we will manage. There is a big chance that General Esdeth will be able to reach far better results than we anticipated, is it not true?"

"I do not wish to assault Tilandr with nothing but the best," said Esdeth.

"Oho, so there _is_ a limit to your great abilities, General. How humbling," said Admiral Kyuson. Tatsumi raised a brow. Throughout the meeting, it had seemed that the Admiral was doing whatever was in his power to antagonize Esdeth. He wondered if the man was fearless, or stupid.

Esdeth, in the meantime, looked prepared to skewer the admiral. "Fool. Thanks to the incompetence of cretins like you, the rebellion has access to many of the Empire's Teigu! Objects whose strengths even I cannot fathom completely." Then she slammed her foot. "And lest we forget—it was the stupidity of you generals that allowed Kanai's Cube to slip through our grasp."

"Please, let us not deal with past ills," Abell implored.

"What's this?" Tatsumi asked.

"It is a long story, my lord," Abell said wearily. "Suffice to say, not too long ago, some of our own blundered, heavily. They were deceived by these fellows known as Night Raid—you are familiar with them, yes?"

"Yeah, they're those assassin-type fellows right? I heard about them from before." Word came through the merchants coming into the village of these so-called assassins who struck only at night. They had killed plenty of high-ranking people of the Empire, and were thus said to have some sort of grudge against the Empire as a whole. When he'd ascended to the Throne, he'd been briefly informed that the organization did exist, but that he should not personally worry about attacks on his person: the Capital, and the Palace, was said to be impenetrable, and would keep him relatively safe.

"There was a theft at the Imperial Bank, which I am sure they were involved in. The ruckus was so great and the crime so bold that General Esdeth was sent in, to pursue the criminals. However, several governors and generals, each seeking what had been stolen, blocked the General at every turn—until the last battle, where she lost the trail as the rebels contrived to disappear completely out of sight, the priceless Teigu in their grasp. I have withheld a number of other details, but those were the important facts."

"And what's even more important," Esdeth said with much icy rancor, "Was the fact that those _people_ who dared impede me without cause ended up coating my blade with their blood."

"Which would have earned a reprimand from the Emperor," said Abell. "If there _had been_ an Emperor. After, the Ministry heads also independently decided that those she'd killed had been treacherous in their acts, and had thus been punished accordingly."

"Thank the gods for that," Admiral Kyuson mumbled.

Tatsumi cleared his throat. "Well, if they do have this Teigu, then it stands to reason they might have it situated in their base, along with all the other Teigu. If it comes to a point where Tilandr is the only rebellious place left, then you have my assurance, General Esdeth, that the full might of the Empire shall be leveraged to ensure the final victory."

"Let it be as you say," Esdeth replied.

* * *

When it was almost time for lunch, Leone was surprised to hear the booming sounds of the bells, which signaled an enemy attack. She sprinted from her place in the mess hall, and then rushed for the nearest wall tower. She ran in the opposite direction of the many citizens who were rushing to their homes in a panic at the sound of the alarm.

They had been briefed before as to the significance of the alarms. Thanks to Folkis' deep and long history of mining, the city itself had its own underground tunnels separate from the sewer system, which were connected to the labyrinthian mine complexes in the nearby hills. These had traditionally been used to transport food and other important objects to and from the silver mining operations. At one time, a particularly large tunnel was used to export the raw material output from the mines to the city directly, which enabled the city's production to skyrocket.

Nowadays, the mines weren't seeing that much work, and for many years the tunnels remained unused. With the arrival of the Empire, however, the entrances to these tunnels were quickly reopened, and each citizen briefed to use them whenever the signal for alarm came ringing. This was to prevent the Empire from butchering Folkis' citizens in the siege or during the assault on the city itself, which was always a possibility thanks to the previous actions of certain bloodthirsty generals like Esdeth.

This was all Folkis could do, as the Revolutionary Army was still adamant on Night Raid doing their part whilst leaving Folkis alone, leaving its people's fate to the winds. Whether they succeeded or failed, Folkis would be at the epicenter of a massive turbulent wave, and the Army preferred to ride this tide from a safe distance.

Using her Teigu's ability, Leone easily scaled the stone bricked wall leading to the top of the signal tower. When she arrived at the top, none of the soldiers there were paying attention to her: as their eyes were fixed permanently on the fields outside. Judging from the tones of all their voices, there was something completely terrifying down there.

"I-impossible..!"

"It's true! That's the Ice Queen! In the flesh!"

"Aiiieeee! I don't want to die!"

"Hush, coward! For Folkis!"

Leone leaned over and analyzed the situation with her own eyes. Even if she was used to the sight, it still made her hair rise on the back of her neck, and her skin prickle with fear. There stood the ordered formation of thousands of Imperial soldiers, arrayed in full battle attire, a thousand and more spears glinting like a haystack of needles. From a distance they were like a thousand shiny ants swarming over the plain. Many banners, proclaiming the Imperial sigil, floated high and proud above the assembled ranks. Behind them loomed the appearance of the dreaded mobile cannons, the bane of any walled settlement.

Much more terrifying than all this assembled collection of heavily-armed soldiers though, was the appearance of one particular persono. This one was easily recognizable by her pale complexion and the long silvery hair that cascaded down to her hips. In that instant, Leone ducked behind the wall, for she felt as if that one's gaze had been travelling over the ramparts and had been just _this_ close to spying her. Leone had recoiled, out of the necessary paranoia that Esdeth's committing her face to memory would hinder Night Raid in the future—but also of the gutless instinct of fear.

"Bullshit! You've heard the stories! You've heard what she does! I'm heading down the tunnels to my Ara! Don't you fucking stop me!"

The one who looked to be a captain whirled angrily. "Leave your post and you'll be feathered, soldier! The penalty for treason is death!"

"Then let death come for you all, traitors! You supported the damned mayor with his stupidity and now _we_ have to pay the price! Fuck no! Fuck you!"

"Have at you!"

"Stop!" Leone hissed, kicking the men before their bows could fire the arrows at the soldier. Seeing this, the protesting soldier quickly clambered down the ladder, fleeing the danger. "Enough! While I don't agree with that asshole, you must also see and face the facts. You can't face down Esdeth, not with everything you have! You must retreat to the mines!"

"You are not my leader, foreigner. Though you are the mayor's honored guest, an outsider you will remain," said the leader of the guards. "Please leave, before I will be forced to restrain you."

Leone chuckled. "You're welcome to try. I—"

"Sergeant!" someone cried. "Something's happening!"

They all went back to the ramparts to see what was going on. Then there came a bewildered murmur from those who were gathered.

"Is she…? By the gods, what of our landmines? What of our defenses?"

"That can't be! She's a devil!"'

Right before their very eyes, a sight of pure sorcery occurred. Where once was a dug-out field, every yard filled with an explosive death trap meticulously devised to explode at the slightest pressure, there now grew a field of pure white, like a sheet of ice. The wave of ice grew and grew, until it covered the whole area, slamming into the base of the walls down below. A lake of ice had therefore grown in a span of mere seconds. From here, Leone could feel the wave of unsettling cold that wafted towards this way, no doubt generated by the stupendous exertion of such a powerful Teigu.

The Ice Queen wasted no time. After her sorcery was completed, she made some sort of gesture, whereupon the army behind her began to march—right on top of the ice. Their combined footsteps on the newly conjured sheet of ice were like the crackle of thunder on a distant mountain-peak: except that the sound never ended, and just kept on and on as the wave of black advanced upon the white field below.

"Fire! Fire, damn you!" the leader shouted at his soldiers, who all shivered in their armor, as if Esdeth's nefarious cold had gripped them down to their bones.

"If you're smart, you'll abandon this spot immediately and flee," Leone said, before climbing down the walls. While she had every sympathy for those willing to fight against the Empire, she was also not one to so frivolously throw away her life for nothing. Besides, this was all going according to Najenda's plan.

She scurried on over to their hideout in the city. No doubt the others were also now aware of Esdeth's troops soon to be arriving in the city.

"It's her, isn't it?" Bulat asked, at the door to their hideout. He opened it and ushered her inside.

"Yep. Are the others prepared?"

The pompadour-wearing man nodded and locked the door behind him. "They've already went on ahead. But we'll be hot on their heels if we go now. Are you ready?"

"I always am."

Leone spared no more thoughts of the defenders at the wall, wishing them luck in whatever path they chose.

For now, she and Night Raid had to do their own separate thing, which meant following the next steps in Najenda's plan to the letter.

* * *

All in all, the occupation of Folkis was a short affair, lasting for several hours at best. The mayor and his retainers had been captured safely. There was also minimal damage to the infrastructure, and was only on the outer walls, where much of the fighting had been concentrated. As if such a thing had been anticipated, a bill for reconstruction had been given to Tatsumi almost immediately for him to sign, which he did.

But it also wasn't completely bloodless, as Tatsumi had hoped.

The initial approach on the city, which involved the now infamous "March over the Ice", had some casualties on the Imperial side. Though the soldiers on the front-lines were experienced in using their shields, a few of the rebel archers were still able to find their true mark. Nonetheless, soldiers of Esdeth were used to pain and bloodshed, and the deaths of their comrades only served to fuel their battle lust. As a paltry hail of arrows sprinkled against the shield wall, their ranks parted to reveal the advance of the mobile cannons, which immediately fired upon the guard towers on the wall, silencing the defenders. Another cannon fired on the iron gates, shattering them in one loud explosion, thereby necessitating the aforementioned repairs.

As the shattered portions of the wall crumbled and burned, the rest of the army, now free from attack, surged through the ruined gates. Acting upon knowledge garnered from old maps of the city, the army moved from district to district, capturing key points and making sure there were no surprise combatants to be found. A group of soldiers then cornered the mayor in his house, and had reported to Esdeth that the fellow had had guards around him, who had then been told to lay down their weapons instead of resisting.

It was notably strange that there were only a few citizens the soldiers had found inside the buildings. When pressed by Esdeth, the mayor freely admitted that the citizens had fled in great numbers to the mines, hoping to find asylum among the Revolutionary Army.

"And why did you not abscond with the rest of them?" Esdeth was reported to have asked.

"This is _my_ city. I shall remain with it, no matter what happens, as a captain to a ship."

In the meantime, Esdeth's army had taken to looting the whole city. It was something Tatsumi could scarce control, not without making himself appear as a weakling Emperor. Even General Abell had protested, for though he agreed somewhat with the Emperor's directive to spare the citizens, the same could not be said of their property. The right to despoil and pillage was a tradition inherent to the army, and denying this chance to Esdeth's army now would prove problematic to Tatsumi's reign in the long run.

"Leave it alone, Tatsumi," Sayo had said, when he'd voiced his frustrations out in private to his friends. "This is their ways now—you've done all you can to stop a massacre."

"It's wise to choose your battles," Ieyasu added. "Even in something like this."

Still, Tatsumi could not help but feel slightly guilty at watching the frenzied looting going on all around. After all, was he not the one responsible for sending all these soldiers here to attack and capture Folkis, and every other city out there? This would obviously not endear him to those citizens who were supposed to work at the mines for his sake. But the alternative was also not something he wished to contemplate.

After all was said and done, and the afternoon hours bled on, Tatsumi met once again with Esdeth and Abell on the next course of action. Admiral Kyuson was on standby in his ironside.

"My soldiers are ready to march on," Esdeth said, with arms crossed.

"If you are not averse to a night march, you can leave as soon as the next hour. However, with the Emperor's permission, you can tarry here for the evening and leave on the first light."

Esdeth glanced at Tatsumi. "I think I would prefer to leave now. Keeps the troops blood pumping. There isn't a better antidote to slake their battle-lust, at least until they reach that fortress."

"Do leave the fortress mostly intact," Tatsumi said, fighting to stop himself from sighing. "I am informed it would make for a good defensive position for our armies."

"I will try, but I do not make promises."

After Abell and Esdeth hammered out a few more details on the campaign, the latter bid her leave, though not before congratulating Tatsumi for a job well done in capturing Folkis. Then, it was his and Abell's time to discuss things.

"The implications of the citizens leaving for the mines cannot be understated," Abell pronounced grimly. "If you will recall, Esdeth's scouts had long been watching both the mines and the city. The exodus of so many people would not have been missed, unless they had been given extra warning days before we'd begun this campaign."

"So what are you trying to say, General?"

"That there might be secret passageways here that none of us know. And the mayor is being tight-lipped about it as well. If we had our seasoned interrogators we would have the truth out of him at once, but alas…"

"Wait, hang on. If they were able to build something that connects to the mines, wouldn't it stand to good reason they would be able to strike at us using these secret passages?

Abell nodded. "Yes, my lord. That is exactly the concern we have to face now. I fear we will have to make a thorough search of every building here, unless you give us authorization to demolish the houses."

"No," Tatsumi said, shaking his head violently. "None of that. We have to make do with searching. General Esdeth's troops have already sucked the whole place dry, and I shan't hobble this place any more by leaving it in ruins." Besides, it would be the Treasury—and by extension, Tatsumi himself—which would feel the strain of financing for the reconstruction of a broken city.

"Very well, my lord. I shall set my soldiers to the task immediately. With any luck, we should be able to find and locate the entrances before they're able to start in on any sort of mischief against us. Therefore, in light of what we've discovered, my lord, it would perhaps be better for you to camp outside. If the rebels have done something here in the city, then it would be better for you to be at a safe distance."

"I… well, I can't really say anything to that," Tatsumi replied. "Thanks for the advice, General." Of course, part of the reason for his ready agreement was his discomfort in sleeping at some room in comfort while much of the people who should have been in the city now cowered in the darkness of the tunnels below, all for fear of _him_. He had brought the army here. It was all for a good cause, true, but that fact would never be forgotten.

As Tatsumi turned to leave the conference room with Sayo and Ieyasu on his heels, General Abell said, "You have done well, today, my lord."

"Hm?" A puzzled Tatsumi looked back at the General.

"Though I personally have a lot of things I disagree with, there can be no doubt that you made a difference today, my lord." The man shrugged, his whiskered mustache quivering in what might be mirth. "So do not doubt that, and please relax. We, your loyal retainers, shall ever be here to support you."

"I…" Tatsumi nodded jerkily. "Thanks, General. You've done a good job too." He grinned. "By the time this is over, I know someone who'll get a comfy Admiral job, if I'm not totally mistaken!"

The man chuckled. "Very good, my lord."

* * *

River was there to meet his superior when Esdeth returned from her audience with the Emperor. Among her direct subordinates, the infamous Three Beasts, Liver occupied a special, distinctive place, being one of those well-attuned to military matters. He could, therefore, give advice to his superior on the rare times when it was needed, and even when it was not, he could still provide unique insights that were always appreciated by the Ice Queen.

"We're to leave immediately," Esdeth announced, passing the aged ex-general by, her cape flapping mightily behind her.

"So that is the course they have decided?" River wondered out loud. "One would think they wished to march on Tilandr before the month ended, the way they're pacing this campaign. Unfortunately, unless my instincts prove me wrong, we'll be having supply problems once the main vanguard reaches the vicinity of the Rathwald mountains."

The Rathwald mountains had been mentioned during the great planning meeting back in the Capital as one of the three main plans for striking deep into rebel lands. It was unfortunate that the chain of fortresses that the Empire had established there had long fallen apart to disuse and mismanagement, as it was located so far away from the Capital. This only ended up causing a major headache to Imperial military planners, as the topography of the mountains made crossing it a major headache not just in terms of the prohibitive terrain, but also the various independent bandits and rebels who now inhabited the area would make any Imperial advance there perilous. It was then just as unfortunate that it was the shortest way to advance upon Tilandr, which would have made the Emperor's campaign a lot faster.

"I believe our Emperor does wish for us to have the rebels done and over with before the week is done," Esdeth remarked, though it was as if she were talking mostly to herself. "However, even he readily admits he is not accustomed to military matters. I myself could have easily told him we would not be able to accomplish such drastic results without mobilizing the entire Empire."

River's gaze sharpened, before his face turned into a stone-like caricature of itself. "You suspect intrigue." If the Emperor had not been educated as to the various intricacies of his planned campaign, then there must have been a concerted goal of keeping him ignorant, or so River now suspected.

"That's a given, but I don't particularly care at this point," Esdeth said with a shrug. After a beat, she asked River quietly. "Tell me, what exactly did you mean earlier that the boy would have 'potential'?"

The "boy" Esdeth referred to in this instance was the Emperor. Liver had made it a point to remark, earlier in the day after concluding the military meeting, that the young Emperor had "potential" of sorts.

"Do forgive me, master," River said. "But as I said before, I only meant it in terms of his will to rule. He neither has the political savvy, the frank charisma nor the unmitigated strength that would make for a good ruler. But he has potential, if only because he desires to rule well. With the right advisors he could become great." _And with Honest behind him_ —was the unspoken phrase, which tasted bitter to this man who credited his greatest misfortunes to the porcine bastard.

"He has the spunk, I'll give you that," Esdeth said. "It's enough for someone like him to join my army. He seems almost like a dog that'll follow your orders to the bitter end. But other than that, there's nothing quite remarkable about him."

It was strange for a general to be talking of the rightful ruler like so, but River figured if there was anyone who would be able to mouth off to the Emperor and live to tell the tale, it would most definitely be Esdeth. Therefore, he said nothing more about the Emperor to the General, and instead said something else.

"With regards to the matter of our deployment: I'm afraid your warriors are still fighting over the spoils, General. It will still be some time before all the conflict is settled. Unless you wish for us to… expedite it?"

Esdeth halted in her tracks, causing River to screech to a halt as well. "… No. They may continue. They only expect us to have arrived at the rebel fortress by tomorrow: I expect the warriors will be more motivated to march through the night if they were satisfied with their booty."

River could only grin to that. The one thing that the old general found most markedly different about Esdeth's personal army, was the notion she instilled into her soldiers. No, "soldiers" wasn't the correct term for them. They were all "warriors": from those who should be the lowest, the conscripts, all the way up to the captains who reported directly to the Three Beasts. Unlike other traditional Imperial armies, induction into Esdeth's army from the governor's various tithes or transfers from other armies was entirely prohibited, unless the Ice Queen personally evaluated the new prospect first. And as Esdeth's criteria were quite exacting, it was a given that only a few of these were ever allowed to join her as her new warrior.

For in treating all of her subordinates as warriors she granted them, even the new recruits, the means to acquire wealth and glory without having to climb the ladder, as Imperial soldiers often had to do. There would be no one taking a greater bite from the stock, each warrior was promised the many rewards from Esdeth's victories, making them all fight all the harder to bring her triumph.

This was the reason why Esdeth had pushed harder to have her army pillage the city. Though the Emperor seemed naïve and foolish to prohibit the wholesale slaughter and violation of the city's inhabitants, Esdeth was willing to go along. But she did draw the line entirely at being forbidden from taking the loot. Frankly, River wasn't sure what would have happened if the young Emperor had persisted in the order. The looting was more than a custom for Imperial armies: it was the way of life for Esdeth's warriors.

Of course, that did not mean the warriors lived a luxurious life. For just as Esdeth preached that rewards were guaranteed for those who proved themselves as strong individuals to her, so too did she demand that those who follow her also strive to live by the example she set. Duels for honor, for wealth, for almost anything imaginable, were encouraged. Internal politicking, though Esdeth disliked it personally, ran rampant through the ranks. Anything went, as long as it was readily understood that such things were to be put to the side whenever the time came for a battle.

About the only thing that was "forbidden", was outright assassination. The perpetrator, if found, was to be executed on the spot, without appeal. Of course, if the perpetrator contrived to never allow himself to be found, then the penalty was waived, and the unknown assassin publicly congratulated by Esdeth herself for having successfully evaded his fellows.

During times after a city or settlement had been looted, the process of dividing up the spoils was not as regulated as in normal armies. True, it would start off simple and quiet, with warriors taking from the pile whatever caught their fancy. Things would then quickly come to a head when two or more warriors sought the same thing, leading to a confrontation which more than likely ended up in a warrior's death. River had witnessed seasoned warriors killed so unceremoniously in this way. Such was the way of life in Esdeth's band.

A distant boom drew the pair's attention to the side. There, far in the horizon outside the city walls, floated several shapes, all converging on the one solitary shape that had been there since the beginning. They were as smaller fish approaching a whale, and this was exactly what it was like to see several flying boats approach Admiral Kyuson's ironside.

"Reinforcements? This soon?" River wondered.

"It would seem that Abell's schedule keeps on grinding on, like a millstone," Esdeth remarked. "Were I in a sympathetic mood, I might even pity Kyuson." River smiled to himself; as his master was rarely in that kind of mood.

Admirals generally disliked being forced to work together whenever orders came to form their ships into a fleet. This was because a debate would ultimately arise among the gathered admirals: who was going to take lead? Thus, the competing egos would give rise to conflict more often than not, and a lingering case of bad blood would continue to fester between admirals for a long time.

River had known about it himself since his days as a general. He used to think the admirals' heads too swollen for their egos.

"Punctual or no, nothing changes about our deployment," Esdeth said, turning to continue her measured pace. "I shall always allow my warriors their due. But do make sure to impress upon them the things the Empire—and the boy Emperor—expects of them."

"With pleasure, General."

* * *

Admiral Kyuson had just been enjoying a long smoking session when he was duly interrupted by the shrill ringing of the communications device. Ash and cigar flew as one, before landing all over the table and on his pressed coat. Cursing and cussing, he snuffed out the lit end of the cigar before answering the device.

"What? What is it?"

" _This is communications. We've hailed airship reinforcements from the starboard side, Admiral. It seems the requested reinforcements have arrived a little too early."_

"Yeah, I could already bloody see them you stupid ingrate! Ask them what the hell they're doing here so early, tell whoever's in charge that since I was here first, then I'm the bloody boss, and lastly that our ether stockpile's off limits!"

He slammed the device receiver down, huffed and glared down at the mess of ash left on his table and on his person, as if it personally offended him. Then he sighed, and picked up the communications device again, this time contacting a different person on the ship.

"Matty, get some of the boys and girls to my office on the pronto. We've some matters to discuss. We're about to be meeting with other crew, and I want our own crew reminded as to the proper answers to be given to any nosy questions they be having. Especially about the you-know-what in the cellar."

" _Of course, admiral,_ " his first mate replied. " _We'll be there in a second._ "

The admiral grunted, put down the device, then scowled down again at the accursed mess. After uttering another string of curses, he rose, crossed the few feet of space afforded him in this office, and slammed open the door to the outside. He glanced up and down the narrow corridor, and spotted what he was looking for.

"You there! Marine!" he shouted, causing the aforementioned woman to jump. "Quit yer loitering and get in here. I've a mess that needs cleaning up, fast!"

The jumpy young darling, who didn't look like she was barely past twenty-five, scurried to follow his order. Glancing at her beautiful face and appraising her slender figure, he figured she was one of those poor unfortunates who got stuck with spear-polishing the most while a fresh recruit, and was lucky enough to be transferred to a marine's division. He smiled lewdly, rubbing his scraggly beard as he imagined doing such unsavory things to this lovely thing, all in the name of serving the Empire of course. Perhaps, after this meeting, he'd be able to partake in a little tete-a-tete with the young marine.

"We're here, sir," cried his breathless first mate a few moments later, interrupting his brief perusal of the young marine. "I've gathered everyone."

"Everyone?" He glanced, surprised, at the assembled crowd. "You look like you brought the whole damned crew!"

"Well, them's the ones who know our business, admiral."

"Aye, well we can't bloody well discuss it with their lot hanging about outside my office looking in, now can't they? Hang on, let me grab my ledger, let's talk about it down in one of the empty holds where we're sure no one can hear."

"Of course, Admiral."

When he came back to the door with the ledger in tow, he handed it to his adjutant, before he turned back to face the marine.

"Be sure to come back later after the mess, m'dear," he purred to the cleaning Marine. "I've a mind to talk to an aspiring marine such's yourself."

"Admiral, it seems there's something wrong with this ledger. You brought the wrong one."

"What?" he said, whirling towards the first mate. His temper rose. "Don't be daft. There's only one ledger, recall?"

"Aye, but according to this, your name's here. Which is strange because—" The man looked up from the book, then slammed the door close.

"—You're supposed to be dead," came the muffled voice from behind the door.

Kyuson stared in confusion, before he felt the touch of cold steel on his neck. Before he could react, the touch had expanded, to cover his whole neck, as if encircling it. He glimpsed the twin edges of a blade poking out from behind his head for a brief moment before he felt intense pain—and then, darkness.

A moment later, the door opened again, and those outside twisted their faces to see the headless corpse of their former admiral, blood still oozing from the severed part. Behind him, the "marine" he'd admired stood, wielding a giant scissor-like weapon.

"Assassination complete," the marine said tonelessly. What had once been a cowering, cringing marine was now masked behind an emotionless façade. "The ship is yours."

"Aye. 'Tis good he raised no alarm. Now we wait for dusk, as per the plan," the first mate said.

"I'm not cleaning this up," the woman said, putting a way the giant weapon.

"Have no fear," assured the first mate. "This wretched one's remains will disappear as if he never was. After all, I wouldn't want my office to remain this dirty."

"Do as you will, but remember your orders," the woman said bluntly, as she walked straight into the assembled crowd of mutineers. They all parted to let her through, a silent sort of respect in their eyes.

"Sit you there, you stupid boor," the first mate spat, at Kyuson's rolling head, his last moment of surprise forever etched onto his face. "See what comes with taking what isn't yours.

"Now we're gonna take it all back, you'll see. Down with the bloody Empire!"

* * *

Tatsumi had asked to be left alone upon their arrival back at camp. It seemed he would be delegating his commanding tasks to General Abell for the time being. Not even he nor Sayo could find a way to talk to their friend. One annoying thing about his being an Emperor and their being his bodyguards was that technically he could order them around now. And if nothing else, he had a whole bunch of other bodyguards who would do their utmost to bar entry if he wished it, even if they were just close friends who wanted to talk.

Ieyasu himself felt conflicted. Tatsumi seemed in that sort of mood where nothing he wanted was going well, and the frustration therefore was building up inside him. Ieyasu had seen it first-hand: having seen his close friend contend with the likes of the Ice Queen and the other Generals while all he could do was stand off to the side, forcing himself to stay silent for the sake of his friend. He could tell they were treating Tatsumi like the newest hunter in the village: never coddled, yet nonetheless passed around from mentor to mentor because no one except the village elder was inclined to teach them the ropes. The eagerness to learn clashed with the lack of available teachers—and when the time came for serious work, the beginner was then blamed swiftly for any flaw or wrongdoing, as if they could and should have been taught any better.

It was no wonder that Tatsumi had then secluded himself. The dude was always one to keep troubling things to himself. He recalled a similar event, when the Danger Beast Brightsmile had terrorized the forest, and an arrow Tatsumi had shot had missed, and ended up wounding another hunter. It was hardly his fault, as the beast had dodged, yet he had been lectured by almost every other senior hunter. Tatsumi hadn't exploded in anger, yet had also kept to himself, most of the time, until a lot of time had passed.

He'd never missed an arrow again.

Left with nothing to do, Ieyasu had bid his leave of Sayo and went to watch the Ice Queen's army pack up. It was always fascinating to see so many people moving about, doing their business, particularly when they moved in perfect order to complete their task. He then played a spot of cards with some of the sentries in Abell's camp, all the way until dusk signaled the end of the day. By then, Esdeth's army had begun marching out, with the whole army making a hard right to go beyond the enemy-occupied hills.

Using that as a signal for him to return, Ieyasu shouldered his axe and made his way back to the inner circle of tents where the Emperor's tent was. There, he discovered from his fellow royal guard that Tatsumi had left.

"You just missed them. It's a celebratory banquet, up in the city, sir Ieyasu," said the guard. "The invitation from General Abell came just as you left. Lady Sayo was one of his guards. You can stay here if you want."

"I ain't gonna be left out of any parties," Ieyasu retorted, as he tied the axe to the hunting strap on his back. Admittedly, he did feel the slight pangs of hunger biting into his belly, which fed into his desire to join said party. "I'll see you all later." And with a salute, he jogged the way to the city, crossing the makeshift wooden bridge that had been erected hastily over the temporary field of ice that Esdeth had created.

Beyond the walls, the city was as desolate as it was a few hours ago. Not that it affected him much: back in the village, the only thing that staved off boredom was the presence of his best friends, and training his guts out at the yard. The village was just as desolate especially when everyone was huddling for warmth inside their houses.

Still, he did feel a little sympathy for these folks who got displaced from their homes because of them. He couldn't really wrap his mind much about "rebels" and "rulers" and all that, and the only thing that really struck him was the many ways these city folk justified having to fight and kill each other. Maybe the whole world needed to be just like his village—filled all around with Danger Beasts—so that people would stop doing that.

"Now that's a scary thought," Ieyasu murmured to himself. "Ain't no way I can survive in a world like that."

While thinking such thoughts, he ascended the stairs within the building, using his keen hunter senses to follow the tell-tale boot-prints on the fancy carpet, which meant Tatsumi's armored bodyguards had just been in here.

He reached the second landing, his eyes on the trail. He walked along the corridor, ears straining for the tell-tale sound of his friends' voice, or the clanking of utensils.

"Ah." There, rounding a corner, was one of the imperial guards. He paused, and frowned, as the soldier approached, and nodded as he passed the other by. Ieyasu stood there, suddenly uncertain, the gears in his head ticking.

Without even giving another second to think, he grabbed his axe and hurled it as swift as he could at the bodyguard. His doubt was justified, as the bodyguard immediately drew a strange weapon, deflecting his spinning axe upward into the ceiling.

The helmed bodyguard turned to face him. On second glance, its weapon looked just like the one Tatsumi liked. It was a curved, thin blade, a design that was supposed to hail from the far east.

Beckoning with his glove, he summoned the axe back to his hand. "You… who are you?"

"You can see me?" the false bodyguard asked. Ieyasu blinked. Unless he was hearing things, this one sounded female.

"Yes of course," said Ieyasu. "I see as plain as day you aren't what you say you are." But primarily, it had been the smell. Every hunter had a keen sense of smell. He had gotten used to the distinct scents that the sweaty bodyguards usually exuded. Even Tatsumi, who'd been literally bathed in a lot of perfumes and sweet-smelling oils, still had a distinct scent that separated him from the others. So when the differently scented bodyguard passed him, he was reasonably sure it wasn't one of the people he'd been working with for several weeks.

Secondly, there was also the fact of its weapon, which he'd managed to spot. Though the stranger's different scent could have been explained away easily by being someone Ieyasu had never met, the fact that it had a different weapon on its side highlighted its foreign nature. Ieyasu was aware, from the many lectures given to him and Sayo by the "real" imperial bodyguards, including that stick-in-the-mud Budo, that the bodyguards' armaments were supposed to be just as uniform as the suits they wore. As far as Budo was concerned, the two of them were the only irregularities, and only because Tatsumi had personally requested it.

Combined, this was what made him throw his axe, despite the low chance of him attacking an innocent person.

"I see. Then, the solution is obvious." He tensed when the stranger grabbed the hilt of its sword in both hands. When it charged towards him, too fast for him to anticipate, he was only able to put up his axe in time to be blown back by the intensity of the attack.

"Gwargh!" Battle instincts kicking in, he rolled to a stop, then planted his feet square on the ground in order to kick off and somersault himself into a standing position. His eyes widened when his opponent was already on him, swinging its sword around like nobody's business.

Just from their brief exchange of blades, Ieyasu could sense he was outmatched. In the first place, he wasn't used to one-on-one duels: he worked better in a group with his comrades supporting him. In addition—though he was not one to claim unfairness—that sword had a long reach. He was at a clear disadvantage.

Still, no one could claim that Ieyasu was one to run from a fight. Steeling himself, he brought his senses to the fore, gripped the haft of his axe tightly, and charged.

* * *

Sayo observed that despite looking outwardly cheerful, Tatsumi seemed downright distant still. His eyes were unfocused, his manner stilted, and his reactions to the japes made by General Abell or any of his coterie only bestirred a forced smile.

He didn't even have much of an appetite, to the disappointment of his host. While the other men in the room feasted and drank freely, Tatsumi nursed a goblet of wine that had been pushed into his possession, and didn't bother to take one sip. He didn't even pay attention to any of the food that had been laid out: this was a sign that Tatsumi was truly out of it.

Unfortunately, Sayo was currently acting as "bodyguard", which meant she couldn't just go and talk to him without arousing comment (particularly from her fellow bodyguards). Therefore, she had to wait until her friend excused himself from the feast to get some fresh air outside, before she followed in turn, pre-empting the other guards who were about to escort him themselves.

"You haven't seen Ieyasu?" Tatsumi said, when they were alone. They stood on a balcony which overlooked a portion of the city below. Thanks to the absence of the citizens, the city was left in a state of near-darkness, except for a few glimmering lights scattered all over the city and on top of the massive wall in the distance, which indicated the locations of the various garrisons Abell had scattered throughout the city.

"Nope. I'm betting that guy's sleeping in his tent or something. He's been complaining about standing around for the whole day." Tatsumi chuckled. "And I told him, he's not the only one who's had to keep standing around, you know." She drew close, as close as was appropriate for a bodyguard, anyway. "… How are you really feeling, Tatsumi?"

His smile faltered, turning wistful as he looked away from her. He mused in silence for a long moment, before he sighed and looked down at his spread hands.

"I'm kind of tired. It's always so hard trying to be the person everyone needs you to be. It's like I have to wear this suit of armor that doesn't let me move so well, and I have to keep wearing it until the minute I get back into bed. It might be worse than stalking a Beast for a week straight. At least there I could say I'd successfully outwitted the Beast. Here? I feel like all I've ever been doing is making a big fool of myself. A thought's always in my mind: 'Am I really the right person for this throne?' Perhaps it would be better if I were not here." He clenched his hands. "But I'm… _cursed_ with the fact of knowing… full well… that the alternative would be much worse. The Prime Minister is doing all he can to keep things together. And here I am trying to salvage the situation by being proactive. I'm doing what the elder always said: never leave a threat to roam outside your home."

"Tatsumi, it's only the start of this campaign," Sayo said in a soothing voice.

"Yeah, and here I am questioning the fact that I'm even here," he said. "Maybe Budo was right. I should just leave the tedious army stuff to the Generals, and stay my ass at the Capital."

Sayo wanted to say something, but felt that any of her advice didn't have any real wisdom behind them. Thus she was only able to shrug. "That's ultimately your choice, Tatsumi. Oh, sorry, 'Emperor'."

"Sayo?" He tilted his head in confusion. His eyes then widened in surprise when she squeezed his cheek.

"Hello, Emperor? Can I talk to Tatsumi? Short, scruffy guy, has really messy hair, not very smart, but a real good hunter? Hm? I can't seem to find him."

"Wh-what're you—" Tatsumi asked, with cheeks pinched.

"Listen, I can't really offer much advice to you, Tatsumi. All this Emperor stuff is just going over my head. But never forget that underneath it all, you're just a massive goofball who's got the record of 'most times late to a scheduled hunt'. So you're not exactly perfect—even if you're not the Emperor." She let go of his cheek. He frowned at her while rubbing at the red, pulsing spot.

"I was being _serious!_ " Tatsumi protested.

"So was I."

He spluttered. "Well, you've got a strange way of showing it!"

She placed her hands behind her and walked a few paces away. "'Don't ever change.' That's the only piece of advice I can give you, Tatsumi. Well, that, and the fact that me and Ieyasu will be here to keep beating some sense in you when the time calls for it." She placed a hand on her chest, puffing it out proudly. "That is, unless you wish to dismiss these two ultra-quality bodyguards from your service, which would be a very bad idea."

Tatsumi stared at her for a long while, before exhaling loudly. "If you're the best bodyguards then I'm the best hunter in the village. I should probably fire you before I end up in some unfortunate mischief."

Sayo smiled to see Tatsumi's face relax. It was easy to spot the difference from before: her friend always wore his emotions on his sleeve, making it easy to guess what he was thinking or feeling most of the time. It was honestly a bit cute and endearing.

She laughed. "Well, I—"

She froze. Instinct had called to her. Without even knowing why, instinct drove her forward, knocking Tatsumi to the side.

"Gufh!"

A loud bang impacted the floor right beside them, sending fragments of marble flying.

"Tatsumi, stay down!" Sayo shouted, getting up from his prone body and crawling to hide behind the banister. She drew her weapon, and peeked up over the edge.

She saw the flash of light long before she heard the tell-tale screech of something hurtling through the air. She ducked, and a second later the projectile impacted on the marble behind her. Then she rose, and fire three shots into the darkness, and inwardly marveled at the smooth operation of her bow. The Skeleton was truly a master.

"What's going on?" Tatsumi asked.

"We're under attack!" she cried. She bounded quickly for the door, banged it open, and shouted the same, "We're under attack! Save Tatsumi!" She kept her bow nocked and trained on the darkness where the attacks had originated.

Immediately, there came a flurry of iron-booted footsteps. Swords were drawn and shields readied. A mass of steel barged through the door, and immediately moved to secure Tatsumi behind a barricade of steel.

"What's going on? Where are the attackers?" asked the head of the guards present.

"Unknown, but they're using some sort of projectile," she replied. "We've got to secure him!"

"That goes without question. Move!" the head barked. A bewildered Tatsumi was lifted up and carried back inside the dining hall. Sayo fired a few more shots into the darkness, before she scurried back inside and locked the doors behind her.

Within, the raucous atmosphere in the hall had turned into one of wonder and panic. A pale-looking General Abell approached the guards escorting Tatsumi.

"The Emperor! By the gods, is he..?"

"We're under attack," the head bodyguard announced, causing a storm of muttering in the room. "We need to secure the Emperor immediately."

The general blinked and frowned, as if he was calculating something in his head. "This place isn't exactly secure—" he began to say before an explosion rocked the room, throwing everyone into chaos.

Sayo rushed to the window to look outside. The ironside that had brought them here was now floating, meaning it had once more been deployed. Intermittent flashes of light appeared along its side, followed some moments after by a flurry of explosions all around the city.

"Is that…?"

"Oh my! The ship has gone rogue!" Abell exclaimed.

"Damn…" the head bodyguard said. "The camps won't be safe for the Emperor."

Tatsumi, who had so far remained silent, said, "Why is the ironside firing on the city?"

"It could be traitors, my lord," said the head bodyguard. "Or a number of reasons. We can only work with what we see, and what we see is a danger. General, we shall try to find a safe haven for the Emperor. In the meantime—"

"No," Abell said firmly, drawing the sword on his hip. He had a determined look on his face. "It is my responsibility to protect the Emperor, and protect him I shall. I trust my capable subordinates to coordinate a defense on my behalf." He glanced towards the other people in the room, and nodded. They nodded in turn before jogging out. "I know of a secret area in this building that will serve as a suitable hideout until this ruckus ends. Follow me."

Sayo and the bodyguards followed Abell. Tatsumi, who refused to be manhandled now that the shock had passed, jogged along in their midst. All around them the earth rumbled and shook. Sayo could almost hear the sounds of fighting in the distance, of steel clashing against steel.

They came to an underground area, where a number of weapons and armor were stored. A thick layer of dust lay over the entire place, which forced Sayo to cover her mouth to ward it off.

"Spread out and search the area," Abell ordered. "Try and see if there are any spots we can reinforce. After that, I leave it to you to find a way to station yourselves around without giving away that we're keeping the Emperor here."

"Understood," the head bodyguard said. By all rights he answered only to General Budo and the Emperor, but he ended up following Abell's suggestion anyway. The bodyguards filtered away, slipping into side corridors and rooms. Sayo for her part, paced the entrance through which they'd come. The hallway outside the door leading here was reasonably long enough for here to be able to spot anyone coming this way and pepper them with arrows.

"This is bad," Tatsumi said behind her. "We can't stay in the city for too long. If the rebels have indeed built tunnel complexes underneath like you said, then this whole place is a literal death trap. The rebels could come streaming out from the hills through the tunnels to besiege us here. And I know we probably shan't be able to last long."

"Tunnel complexes? What tunnel complexes?"

"The ones you said they'd dug… up…"

Curious why Tatsumi had trailed off, Sayo looked behind her, and saw something that froze the blood in her veins.

General Abell had a hand clamped around her friend's mouth, forcing his head back to bare his neck. In his other hand a great, ugly knife glinted in the darkness, its intent unmistakably clear.

Sayo could not even move—too great was the shock. She could not even summon the strength to lift the bow in her hands. The tip of the blade swung down, closer and closer, until it kissed the vulnerable flesh of his neck.

She blinked, and suddenly a great black substance exploded from Tatsumi's neck where the knife had touched. Like ink being splashed onto their bodies, this strange substance covered them both, making a keening sound like a sword being sharpened. Then, a moment later, the black substance receded, like smoke blown away by the wind. And then, there remained nothing.

Sayo moved forward, on shaky legs, confirming with her eyes what her mind refused to see. Her friend was gone. There was no sign of Abell, nor of Tatsumi.

"Tatsumi!" she cried, drawing all the bodyguards back to the room.

* * *

At first, he was blinded by the darkness. It was like he was trapped in the midst of a great blizzard, unable to move, unable to breathe. The last moments he'd experienced kept repeating themselves in his mind, over and over.

Abell. The cellar. The knife. Abell with the knife. Abell about to kill him.

A flash of rage coursed through him. Was he, then, a traitor? Had everything he'd done, everything he'd told Tatsumi, all the advice—had it all been a lie? A front, to make Tatsumi lower his guard?

In the next moment, light filled his eyes, and he found himself stumbling to the floor. Coughing and gasping, he heard the sounds of people screaming, and something falling to the floor. Then there was the sound of something metallic clattering to the ground.

He looked up, and saw he was looking into Honest's eyes. The Prime Minister looked supremely surprised, his eyes bulging clear out of his face. Then Tatsumi looked down, and saw his whole body was wreathed in a black substance. He screamed, moved his hands to free himself, then found that the substance actually felt like some sort of cloth.

"M-my lord Emperor?" Honest said. "H-how can this be? Are you not-? And General Abell?"

Hearing that man's face, Tatsumi twisted, craning his neck to see that General Abell was slumped on the ground behind him. Tatsumi scrambled to stand, and was relieved to see that the cloak of darkness had disappeared.

"Arrest him!" he shouted frantically, pointing at Abell. "Traitor! He is a traitor! Assassin!"

A stunned silence followed. Then, Honest shouted, "Guards! Come! Seize him!" There came a clatter of footsteps as the imperial bodyguard came as ordered. Yet before they could come close, the body of General Abell rippled, like he was made of water. A moment later, his form melted away, revealing the body of a beautiful woman, with flowing red hair.

"I see! So this is the true form of the traitor!" Honest declared. "An assassin, indeed! With a special ability to disguise herself, no less!"

Tatsumi blinked, utterly surprised. So it wasn't General Abell at all?

"Take her away," said Honest, sneering. "Let the Rooks have their way and pick her mind clean, before she's executed."

"Wait!" Tatsumi said. He looked around, and saw that he was actually in the Throne Room. What was going on? Why had he come here? "Imprison her, but don't call in the interrogators yet. I want to talk to her myself."

Honest looked conflicted, but bowed nonetheless. He gestured swiftly to the bodyguards, who took the unconscious woman's body away.

"Prime Minister, what happened? Why am I here? Is this really the Capital?"

"Why yes, indeed my lord," Honest replied. "As for the 'why', well, we're all rather curious about that, myself. It was surprising to see you appear from out of a pool of darkness that just happened to appear from out of the ground. I initially thought it all some sort of strange assassination scheme, at least until I saw you. Then again, I am still in disbelief: how are you here, and not at the camps at Folkis!"

Tatsumi snapped his fingers. "Oh, right! Folkis! Damn it!" He cursed himself for losing control of his wits like that. He dashed to the window, and confirmed that the great _Pandemonium_ was still out there, which meant he really was in the Capital. He pinched himself: he felt pain, which meant he was not in some strange near-death dream. "The ironside is actually rebelling! The city's under attack! We need to send troops there or General Abell's army won't last!"

"A rebelling ironside?" Honest repeated in disbelief, even as the gathered people murmured darkly around them. "I—I understand. Let us inform General Budo at once. Hoh, but wait, is not General Esdeth there? I am sure any sort of rebellious acts will soon be quashed under her capable hands."

"But she and her army's already left!" Tatsumi said.

"Why would she? Unless I'm much mistaken, the plan called for the forces to capture Folkis, fortify it while we use it as a base of operations to project an attack. Esdeth was not to leave at least until a week had passed, and more intel had come."

"What?" Tatsumi couldn't believe it. "But that's what General Abell _said_!"

"That is indeed strange," Honest said, stroking his moustache.

 _Wait a second…_ Could General Abell actually be in on it? The assassin had taken his form, true, but Tatsumi had assumed he had been innocent after all. But with this new piece of information, a dark cloud of unpleasantness settled once more around the supposedly duplicitous general.

 _Boom!_ There came the sound of an explosion from outside, making Tatsumi's heart sink. It was exactly the same sound as the explosion of the cannonfire he'd just heard a few minutes ago. Was there a battle occurring here, too? But Honest had also heard, and the two of them went to the source: outside the Throne Room, in the great gardens that immediately flanked it.

There, one of the bodyguards stood before a great smoking crater, while the rest stood to the side, still carrying the accursed assassin.

"What's going on?" Honest shouted.

"An explosive, my lord," said the bodyguard. "We checked her just to be sure, and found it on her person. We scarcely had a few seconds before it detonated."

Honest glanced at Tatsumi. "Ah, so they wanted to be thorough. It is a good thing you were thorough my friends. The Emperor commends you. Come, Emperor, let us inside, before more surprises come. Take her away, and strip her naked if need be. The Emperor wishes to speak with her, so make sure she isn't carrying anything more!"

The two of them came back to the Throne Room.

"We should contact the front, and see what's going on," Honest said. "Fortunately, General Maldo's armies are enroute. I'll alert him, and we shall see the situation. Don't you worry, my lord."

"Sayo…" Tatsumi muttered. He'd utterly forgotten. Sayo and Ieyasu were still back there!

He whirled and shouted, "Prime Minister! We need information on the situation there now! I command it!"

For the first time since he'd met Honest, the man's eyes looked frightened. The moment passed, as the Prime Minister bowed hastily. "It will be done, my lord, no worries. Rest assured, we shall find the truth of it all."

Breathing heavily, Tatsumi could only stagger towards the Throne. He didn't want to wait for news. He wanted to see it himself. He wanted to know what exactly was going on. He wanted to see his friends safe.

As if responding to his will, the Throne immediately gave his mind a boost as it flew over hills, plains, and mountains until it reached the familiar landscape of Folkis. There, he focused, his mind glancing over the rampaging chaos outside the walls, until he went and followed the same steps he'd taken just a few minutes before when they'd all followed Abell.

"Damn." He couldn't enter. The eye of the Throne could not see into the underground. He cast around, trying to see if Sayo had left, his sight wandering the city.

Then he saw Ieyasu.

"No. No!"

His friend lay on the floor, a great gash in his chest, and blood pooling under his body. He wasn't breathing.

"NO!" He slammed his hand on the Throne's arm, and wrenched himself from the Throne's sight. He pounded the marble steps, as rage and sorrow filled his soul.

* * *

He was beaten. Ieyasu had danced with a master, and had failed. His bruises were innumerable. He could feel his whole body aching, his bones battered, maybe even broken.

It was strange, though. The girl (and he'd only found out this stranger was a girl midway through the fight) had every right to use the very sharp edge of her blade, and yet she settled for using the back of her sword. It was as if Ieyasu wasn't worth slashing to bits. There must be a reason why his blood wasn't on the floor, with himself chopped up into many itty-bitty pieces.

Oh well. It didn't matter now. He was beaten. Breathing heavily, he lay against the wall for comfort, his blood roaring in his ears. His axe felt too heavy to lift, and he was sure that nothing he could do with it would be able to ward his enemy off, anyway.

"What… are you going to do? Who are you?" he asked, through puffy cheeks.

"I am to eliminate a target," the girl said, her flowing black hair looking so beautiful in the moonlight. Her eyes glittered, like blood-red rubies. If he wasn't currently a bruised-up farce of a man on the ground, he would've taken steps to admire her loudly and proudly.

"Who…? Is it…? Is it Tatsumi?"

"Tatsumi?" the girl echoed. "Who is that?"

"My friend. He's the Emperor."

"Ah." The girl's eyebrows quirked. "My apologies."

"Why?" he asked after a short pause. "Why do you want to kill him?"

"It is my duty," the girl replied. "He is a target, and the target must be eliminated."

"But he's a good guy!" Ieyasu said, ignoring the fiery throbbing in his whole body. "I mean, yeah, he's the Emperor and all, but he's doing his best to fix things! Are you from the rebellion?" The girl didn't answer. "If you are, then you have to understand that he's willing to work with you guys if it means peace for the whole Empire! He's not a bad guy! Urf!" He'd tried to stand, to try to explain his case better, but the pain kept him there.

"… You should stop moving. It will help make it easy for you."

Ieyasu panted and wheezed, his mind oddly feeling clear though his head felt like something was hammering it repeatedly. "He's not… Tatsumi's…"

"I have to leave now," the girl said. Her face was as expressionless as ever. She raised her sword, its tip pointed downward over his body.

"Good night."

* * *

 **Another new chapter that has been "encouraged" by a very generous reader. Thank you very much.**

 **I primarily deal in commissions, if you would like a story made, feel free to contact me here or on archiveofourown under "RHoldhous".**


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